


Let's Stay Together

by semperama



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Bisexuality, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Rimming, Sexual Inexperience, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Chris thought he was straight, until Zach. It takes facing the fact he isn't going to be making movies with Zach every few years for Chris to realize that his feelings for him are more than platonic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satismagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satismagic/gifts).



> This was inspired by an askbox prompt given to me by JunoMagic asking for Chris's-first-time-with-a-guy sex with Zach, and it sort of took on a life of it's own. Now it's going to be multiple chapters! Because I can't write short things apparently! It probably isn't going to be more than two or three chapters, but poor Juno has been waiting long enough, so I wanted to get the first part up.

Chris didn’t think he’d ever be sad to see a Star Trek press tour come to an end. The things are torture--even with the dumb vocabulary games to take the edge off--and he always feels strung out and exhausted and shitty for days after they’re over. Especially by now, when it seems like he has been asked the same questions over and over for the past ten years of his life, one would think that he’d be pleased as punch that he never has to do another one. And yet.

“Thank God it’s over,” Zach says as he settles back into the cushions of his couch, beer bottle perched on his knee. He doesn’t sound like he means it, though. He sounds like he’s saying it for Chris’s benefit. Chris watches him tug his tie apart with one hand, then abandon the loose ends to hang around his neck as he raises the bottle to his lips.

“Yeah. Thank God,” Chris repeats hoarsely.

The New York premiere was tonight--the last official stop on their tour before they all part ways again for the last time. There was an after-party, and Chris’s head is foggy with alcohol and sleep-deprivation, and his ears are still ringing a little bit, but it was worth staying out long past the time his introverted self would have liked to be back at his hotel in bed. He found it hard to let go of Simon when they were hugging goodbye. He kissed Zoe right on the mouth--husband and babies be damned--because he has spent more time with her in the past decade than with his own sister, and that has to count for something.

The person Chris is going to miss most is sitting right here though. The person he can’t _bear_ to miss. The person he hopes he won’t have to miss.

They have some time, but it’s not going to be nearly enough. Chris is going to be based in New York through the end of the year--almost six whole months. He is shooting a movie here in a few weeks, and he has already rented an apartment not that far from Zach’s, so it’s not like their friendship is going to be strained right away. But Chris has been agonizing since filming began about the eventual moment when they start to drift apart, when he goes back to LA and Zach forgets him once and for all. He has lain awake nights thinking about it--and when he realized that lying awake nights thinking about it wasn’t _normal_ , that made it even worse. It took months of being sick over Zach for him to realize that those feelings meant something. It took months for him to realize that Zach hasn’t just been a friend to him for a long time. 

“You think it’s all going to change now?” Chris asks. He’s aware how weird of a question it is, how much it makes him sound like he’s drunk and not thinking straight. He is thinking straight though. He has been turning this thought over in his mind for the past year.

“Hmm?” Zach says, lifting a questioning eyebrow at him. “Do I think what’s all going to change?”

“I...I don’t know. You and me?” 

Zach frowns, just a little--more of a furrow of his brow than anything else. “Of course nothing’s going to change.”

It sounds like he says it out of reflex though, not out of sincerity, and Chris can’t deal with it. He can’t deal with any of it. There is something he has to do, and he wanted to do it in a better way than this, but the words are already bubbling up and out of his mouth, and it’s too late.

The most idiotic thing that has come out of Chris’s mouth in his entire thirty-five years of life is: “Do you want to have coffee with me sometime?”

It would be a perfectly normal question in almost any other circumstance, with almost any other person, but here and now it makes Zach choke on his beer and look at Chris like he is expecting an alien to pop out of his chest, and Chris can’t say he blames him. In fact, he is pretty sure that at least eighty percent of his body is flushed bright red with humiliation, but it’s too late to take the words back.

“Come again?” Zach sounds a little shrill--and a little hoarse from hacking on his beer. Chris’s face gets even hotter, and he scrubs at one cheek with his hand like that might somehow help matters.

“I asked if--”

“No, I heard what you said,” Zach cuts him off. He leans forward and sets his bottle down on the coffee table. “I’m just...confused.”

The thing is, Chris has known Zach for almost a decade. In that time, they have gotten coffee together hundreds--if not thousands--of times. They have had meals together at all hours of the day, all over the world. They have fallen asleep next to each other on planes and in trailers and on friends’ couches, seen each other in various states of undress, seen each other sick and depressed and angry and mean. They barely even need to speak to communicate anymore. So the words themselves--asking Zach to have coffee with him as if something like that requires a formal invitation anymore--are silly. Stupid even. But Chris didn’t mean it that way, and Zach obviously knows it.

“I’m asking you out,” Chris clarifies anyway. “Like, on a date.”

“A date?” Zach repeats, as if he has never heard the word before. Chris feels the blood rush unsurprisingly to his face, and he wishes that for once in his life he could have been a little more suave. 

“Yeah. I want to….I want to, uh…” Chris tugs at his collar, wishing he had taken his jacket off when they walked in. There is sweat pooling between his shoulderblades, sliding down his back. “I have feelings for you,” he blurts. 

“You _what_?”

This is excruciating. Chris makes a frustrated sound. “Okay, are you really going to make me repeat every single thing I say, because--”

Zach seems to have blown right past disbelief and arrived at irritation, because he is scowling, spots of color blooming high on his cheeks.

“What are you doing, Chris?”

“Jesus,” Chris huffs, dragging a hand across his jaw. “Can you stop asking me stupid questions and say something already? It’s just...it’s not...”

“If you say it’s not that big of a deal, I swear to God…”

“No, I...it’s a big deal. I know it’s a big deal.” Chris sighs. It’s an even bigger deal for Chris, for reasons that he has tried not to look at head-on. Reasons like the fact that he has never had feelings for another man before. But if those feelings were going to go away, they would have gone away by now, and Chris is too exhausted to fight it anymore. “Just...do you not want to? Because you can just say no. It’s okay.”

Zach scoots forward to the edge of the couch, but he still seems too far away. Chris wishes he was sitting next to him instead of in a chair a few feet away. It makes him feel like a coward, asking this question from across a gulf. He doesn’t want Zach to think he’s a coward.

“You’re not into men,” Zach says, with the certainty of someone who isn’t certain at all but can’t bear to be contradicted.

“You have no idea what I’m into,” Chris shoots back.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve known you for almost a decade. Known you _well_. You’re one of my best friends, Chris!” Zach gets to his feet, and for a moment Chris fears he’s just going to walk out, even though they are in his apartment. He just walks a few steps away and stops though, fidgeting with nervous energy. “How long have you...I mean, do you even…?”

“How long have I wanted you?” Chris says, lifting his eyebrows. The look Zach fixes him with is somewhere between terrified and hopeful, his anger temporarily hidden. “Probably longer than I’ve realized.”

“I’m going to need a little more than that,” Zach says shakily.

Chris sets his beer down on the table and stands up, moving slowly, like Zach is a cornered animal that he doesn’t want to spook. “Zach, look, I...I don’t have it all figured out, okay? And maybe it’s irresponsible of me to risk this, but...fuck it, right?” He gives a sheepish little shrug that he knows fails to capture the gravity of the situation. “What good is being responsible if it means you’re missing out? Because...I feel like we’re missing out on...a hell of a lot.”

Zach still looks like he has no idea what’s going on. His eyes dart to the door, then up to the ceiling, like he’s searching for someone or something to save him. “You’re not _gay_ ,” he says desperately.

“I told you I don’t know what I am.” Chris takes a step forward, then stops when Zach flinches. “Do you think it feels _good_ to realize at thirty-five fucking years old that you might not be as straight as you thought? It’s doesn’t.” He pauses, chest heaving, but Zach’s expression has gone cautiously curious, so he takes that as a good sign and blunders on. “Ever since we started filming the last movie, all I could think about before I went to sleep at night--and the first fucking thing on my mind when I woke up in the morning--was how this was the last one. The last movie, the last fucking press tour. And...what if we started to drift apart? What if you found someone else? What if you got married and adopted some beautiful little babies and...I didn’t want you to do that without me, Zach! I don’t want your life to...to not include me. I don’t know what that means, but I...I want to find out. I want that chance.”

He didn’t want to be reduced to begging, but he doesn’t think he admitted to himself until this moment how much he wants this, how much he wants Zach. If Zach tells him no, he’ll live--he’ll move on eventually and will probably be fine again someday--but it will hurt. A lot. The kind of hurt that changes you a little bit, throws your life off course. 

“Chris, I can’t...I can’t be your experiment,” Zach says. 

Chris grinds his teeth and shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. Not any more than dating anyone else is an experiment. You never know going into it if it’s going to work, and...and we know more than most people.”

“Do we?” 

“We know we get along. We know we have a lot in common. We know we enjoy each other’s company, we challenge each other, we make each other better, we--”

Zach holds a hand up, cutting Chris off. Then, he’s taking a step forward--then another, then another, until he’s right up inside Chris’s personal space, where Chris can see the amber in his eyes. “But do you _want_ me?” he asks. Gently, he takes one of Chris’s hands and places it on his chest. “Are you attracted to me, like you are to women?”

Chris flexes his fingers against Zach’s pectoral muscle, feeling the way the fabric of his shirt rasps against the thatch of hair he knows is underneath. There is no soft swell of breast here, and when he extracts his hand from Zach’s grasp and trails his fingers down to his waist, he doesn’t find the hourglass curve that he’s used to, but it doesn’t really matter. Maybe Chris hadn’t thought this far ahead--hadn’t thought of much beyond the fact that he wants Zach with him always, always, always--but now that he is touching, he doesn’t want to stop.

“It’s different with you,” he says, his voice breaking in the middle. He was watching the path of his fingers, but now he meets Zach’s eyes again. “I don’t think about it like...like I want you for your mind, or I want you for your body, or I want you for your talent. I just...I just want everything. I want all the parts of you. Everything you’ll let me have.”

Zach shakes his head, a little sound of disbelief escaping his mouth. “Why...why are you just now saying something?”

“I didn’t know what it meant. I was...I was just stupid.” It took staring down the barrel of the last Trek movie to make Chris face these feelings. “I’ve never felt like this about another guy, so I didn’t...it took me a while to figure it out.”

Zach is still shaking his head. “This is just...really hard for me to wrap my head around.”

“You’re telling me,” Chris huffs. His hand is still on Zach’s waist, and he curls his fingers into his shirt, holding on tight. “Just...just...coffee? That’s all. If it doesn’t work out then we can...I’m pretty sure we can bounce back from it. Go back to being friends. We can take things slow--see how it goes.”

A shaky hand comes to rest on Chris’s neck, a thumb tucking up under his chin, and Chris lets his eyes flutter closed for a moment and lets the steady warmth seep into him. Zach’s touch is tentative, but it’s also grounding, and it drains away some of Chris’s tension.

“Okay,” Zach says, his voice low and rough, and Chris’s eyes snap open again.

“Huh?”

“I said okay.” Zach slides his hand to Chris’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Let’s start with coffee and see how it goes.”

“O-Okay,” Chris says dumbly. He probably should be smiling, but he feels too overwhelmed to do much more than stare in disbelief. “Good. That’s...yeah. Good.”

Zach does manage a little smile, and though it’s cautious, it makes Chris’s heart flutter in his chest. His heart has done that a million times before when Zach smiled at him, but now that he has a name for the feeling, it feels so much more significant.

“Good,” Zach repeats. He gives Chris’s shoulder one more squeeze and then his hand slides away. His smile softens into something more natural, more familiar. “Now finish your beer and get out. No sleeping over before the first date.”

That surprises a laugh out of Chris, and he feels himself relax even more, silently thanking his lucky stars that Zach is much better at not being an awkward tool than he is.

“Some host you are,” he says as he walks back over to the chair he vacated earlier and collapses back into it.

“I’m just trying to protect your virtue,” Zach says, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the words suck the air out of Chris’s lungs. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

\--------

“Umm,” says Chris.

“So,” says Zach.

It’s not going as well as Chris would have hoped. They’re both stiff, clutching their coffee cups close like shields and unable to hold eye contact very long and struggling to come up with anything of substance to say. Chris actually commented on the weather a minute ago, which made him want to just crawl under the table and die.

“So, how’s, uh, how’s Joe?” Chris asks, then takes a sip from his cup to hide his wince.

Zach lifts an eyebrow. “Didn’t you talk to him on the phone yesterday? I think you talk to him more than I do actually.”

Okay, so it was a stupid question. But Chris has no idea what he’s supposed to be talking about right now. All the normal first date questions aren’t going to work, because he already knows the answer to all of them. He knows all about Zach’s family. He knows about his life goals and his favorite music and his most embarrassing moments. He knows just about everything there is to know about Zach, so what is he supposed to ask him?

“Look, Chris,” Zach says, leaning forward and curling a hand around his wrist. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No,” Chris says, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I want to--”

Zach cuts him off. “No, I mean that we don’t have to do it this way. We don’t have to pretend this is different than what it is. I don’t want to start from scratch, you know?”

Chris sighs with relief and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah. Me either.”

Zach gives his wrist another squeeze and then pulls it back, smiling. “Good. Then tell me about this movie you’re about to start shooting.”

It gets easier from there. They laugh, they talk shop, they get off on a bullshit philosophical tangent about the performative nature of being a celebrity--a conversation they have had a hundred times but that never seems to get old. And this is it--this is the intangible thing that Chris can’t bear to be without. 

They walk back to Zach’s apartment with hands and shoulders brushing, fighting smiles the whole way. Chris feels increasingly twitterpated, painfully aware of how many times he has to sneak looks at Zach’s profile and how much his eyes linger on his mouth. The thought of kissing another man--of kissing Zach--still ties his stomach in knots, because there’s a part of him that’s worried it’s going to totally freak him out and ruin everything, but he can’t help but imagine it anyway--how Zach’s cupid’s bow of a mouth would feel pressed against his, how his big hands would feel cradling his jaw, how it would feel to be held against that broad chest.

Chris is so busy picturing it--and panicking a little bit--that he almost doesn’t notice that they’ve reached the stoop to Zach’s building until Zach puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“You okay?” Zach asks, his brows knitting together with concern.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Sorry. Just...distracted.”

Zach’s expression smoothes out, and Chris thinks he catches just a little glint in his eye, but it disappears before he can be sure. 

“I had a good time,” Zach says. His hand is still on Chris’s arm, plucking at the sleeve of his shirt. 

“So did I,” Chris says sincerely. Of course he did. He always has a good time with Zach.

“When can I see you again?” This time his tone of voice is playful, and that glint in his eye is back, and Chris feels his heart rate pick up. It’s weird, seeing Zach like this. But it’s not a bad weird. Not really.

“Whenever you want,” he answers a little breathlessly. “Tonight. Tomorrow. Any time.”

Zach laughs, a low rumble that makes goosebumps break out on the back of Chris’s neck. “Not even trying to play hard to get, I see.”

“Nope. I’m easy to get,” Chris says, mustering a lopsided grin despite how off-balance he feels.

Zach’s smirk fades a little bit, and his eyes travel slowly over Chris’s face before landing on his mouth. He bites down on his bottom lip and stares for a long, thoughtful moment, then says, “I have a feeling that isn’t true.”

Chris sucks in a breath, but before he can say anything, Zach’s hand slides up over his shoulder and curls around the side of his neck.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks. Chris could swear that his heart stops beating altogether, but he can’t back down from this now, so he nods, his hand coming up to clutch instinctively at Zach’s shirt.

It isn’t even that salacious, as far as kisses go. Zach steps in close and tightens his hand on Chris’s neck and presses their lips together almost chastely, lingers there just long enough for Chris to consider deepening it but not so long that he actually has a chance. When he pulls away again, taking a half step back, Chris’s hand remains curled in his shirt while he tries to calm down, tries to decide if he liked it, if he wants to do it again.

“Freaking out?” Zach asks quietly.

Chris’s heart is knocking on his ribcage and his breathing is a lot faster than it should be considering how not-intense a kiss that was, but he shakes his head anyway. “No, not...not really.”

“Not really?” Zach repeats, sounding a little worried this time.

“Umm, can we...try one more time?” Chris asks. 

Zach glances past Chris down the sidewalk, then throws a look over his shoulder. The block isn’t exactly deserted, but it’s not packed either. No one is loitering. No one is paying attention. Still, Zach takes Chris’s wrist and tugs him over to the building, maneuvers him so his back is pressed up against the brick wall, and then moves in close again.

This time he doesn’t hold back. One hand cups the side of Chris’s face as he covers Chris’s mouth with his and presses their bodies together from the waist down. Chris can feel the bit of stubble at the edge of Zach’s lips, can smell the bright woodsiness in Zach’s cologne. And then Zach’s thumb is behind his jaw, coaxing his mouth open, and Zach licks past his teeth, sliding his tongue along Chris’s and swallowing his whimper before he breaks the kiss and steps back again.

This time they are both breathing hard, and it’s at least a little comforting to see that Zach is affected too. Chris doubts that nerves are the cause of his breathlessness though. Thinking about what probably _is_ causing his breathlessness sends a shiver down Chris’s spine.

“Now are you freaking out?” Zach asks. His eyes are still watching Chris’s mouth.

“Uhh,” Chris stammers. “Uhhh, no. I’m...no. That was good.”

“Are you sure?”

Chris closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then looks at Zach again and nods. “Yeah, it’s...going to take some getting used to, but it was good.”

Zach sucks his bottom lip into his mouth for a second, regarding Chris thoughtfully, then says, “Okay. I can work with that.”

“ _We_ can work with that,” Chris corrects, his smile a little bit shy. He just wants Zach to know that they can get through this together, that he shouldn’t give up yet.

Zach smiles back at him, then leans in for one more quick peck. “Right. We. We can work with that.”

\--------

Chris stares down at his contacts list, at Zach’s name, for what seems like eternity. This is stupid, and he knows it. He calls and texts Zach more than anyone else, and yet now he’s worried that he won’t know what to say, that he’ll end up sounding like an idiot, that Zach is going to tell him this isn’t working out.

They’ve been on two more dates since they had coffee that first time--one casual dinner at a bistro Zach likes and one movie--but it feels like Zach has been keeping him at arms length. Their conversations are as platonic as they have always been, with minimal flirting, and though they have kissed a few more times and held hands in the movie, that is as far as the physical intimacy has progressed. Chris happens to know that Zach is usually a sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy, so he expected things to be moving a lot faster between them even despite his uncertainty. Even though the thought of moving forward makes him nervous, he is equally nervous that Zach is going to get frustrated and pull away from him.

Chris really wants to talk about it, and, because he’s a bit of a coward, he thought a phone conversation would be best, but apparently even that makes him freak out.

He takes a deep breath and pushes the call button anyway.

“Hey,” says Zach’s voice after only one ring. Chris can hear the smile in it, and it makes him smile too, despite the nervousness churning in his gut.

“Hey.” Chris flops back on his bed and looks up at the ceiling and tries to tell his heart that it doesn’t need to race _every single time_ Zach talks. “What are you up to?”

“Just watching some TV before bed,” Zach says. Chris doesn’t hear any background noise, though. “Or, I was, before you called.”

“Sorry, dude. I can let you get back to your Desperate Housewives or whatever.”

Zach chuckles. “No, I’m good. This is better.”

A silence settles between them, and Chris is still smiling at first, but then it goes on long enough to get awkward, and he realizes he probably should say something. Just as he opens his mouth though, Zach beats him to the punch.

“So, uh, how are you feeling about our little experiment?”

Chris takes a deep breath and steels himself. “I wanted to talk to you about that actually.”

“Oh?” Zach sounds immediately wary, which makes Chris’s heart clench a little bit. He wonders what it will take to get Zach to believe he actually wants this.

“I...umm...it just seems like things have been going kind of...slow?”

Zach sighs into the phone. “We’ve been on three dates. How fast do you think we should be going?”

“Come on, Zach. You know what I mean.” Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, since Chris really doesn’t want to explain himself. His cheeks are already flaming, and he hasn’t even said what’s on his mind yet. “Maybe we’ve only been on three dates, but we’ve known each other forever, and it just seems like we should be...I don’t know. Farther along than we are.”

“Chris,” Zach says, exasperated, “the fact that we’ve known each other forever is a reason to go slow, not a reason to go fast. _Especially_ since you’ve never been with a guy--”

“I knew it! I knew that’s what this is about.” Chris scowls at the ceiling, not sure whether he’s more annoyed with himself for being scared or Zach for knowing that he’s scared.

“I just don’t want to freak you out, Chris.”

“You’re not going to freak me out.”

“Oh really?” Chris can practically hear the eyebrow raise. “The thought of touching another man’s dick doesn’t scare you at all?”

“Uhh,” Chris gulps.

“Or having one in your mouth?”

“Zach--”

“Or having one up your _ass_?”

“Whoa, okay,” Chris says. He is pretty sure about half the blood in his body just migrated to his face. It’s a good thing Zach can’t seem him right now. “Slow down there.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Zach says. “We need to go slow.”

Maybe--just maybe--Zach has a point, but that’s not really making Chris feel any better. It still seems like a lose-lose situation to him.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he says quietly.

There is silence on the other end of the line for a little while, and Chris tries not to panic, tries to keep breathing. Finally, he hears Zach take a breath.

“I know you’re going to be worth the wait, Chris,” he murmurs.

Chris feels hot all over again, but this time it’s not from shame. Hearing those words warms him from the inside out and sends a bolt of desire streaking through his stomach, making his dick give an unexpected twitch inside his pants. He knew, theoretically, that Zach wanted him, but actually hearing him say it out loud is entirely different. 

“Yeah?” Chris says. His voice is thick and his tongue feels like cotton, but somehow he manages to get the words out. “Do you...do you think about it?”

Zach lets out an amused little huff. “Of course I do. I tried not to let myself before...you know, when we were just friends. But now I can’t _stop_ thinking about it.”

“What do you think about?” Chris asks tentatively, even though he isn’t one hundred percent sure that he’s ready to hear the answer. 

“I think about...your mouth,” Zach says. Chris could swear his voice just dropped a whole octave. He closes his eyes so he can focus on the sound of it, hoping that concentrating on the fact that it’s Zach on the other end of the line will keep him from freaking out.

“You think about me sucking you?”

Zach takes a sharp breath, and Chris feels a heady rush of triumph. “Yeah, but you don’t have to--”

“Hey, no,” Chris says. “Just...just talk to me, please. I...I need this.”

It’s a good starting point, actually. There are no actual dicks in the vicinity except his own, so Chris can just think about the things that Zach is saying, let himself get used to the ideas before they become a reality. His stomach is still doing nervous backflips, but he is already half-hard and getting harder, just from Zach’s voice in his ear and the slightest hint of the filthy things he might say.

“Okay,” Zach says slowly. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you want to?”

Chris does--of course he does--but he chews on his bottom lip for a moment, considering. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.” The ragged way Zach says it lets Chris know it was exactly the right question for him to ask. “Yeah, but just over your pants for now, okay?”

“Okay,” Chris agrees. At the moment, it’s hard to imagine a version of himself that can ever tell Zach no. He palms himself carefully, his touch tentative since he is not fully hard yet, and strains to hear the sound of Zach’s breathing. “So, you were saying.”

“I do think about you sucking me,” Zach says. “On your knees, so I can see your face and your pretty mouth.”

Blood rushes to Chris’s face and his dick in equal measures, and he gives himself a squeeze through his jeans, biting back a groan. “What do I…” he stammers. “How do I do it? What am I like?”

“You’re...shy about it at first. You keep looking up at me all bashful and uncertain and eager to please.”

Chris can imagine it. He can imagine it easier than he thought he would be able to--the velvet heft of Zach against his tongue, his lips stretched around him. He can imagine doing everything he can to make it feel good, because even if he is an amateur, he wants Zach to want him more than he has wanted any other guy he has been with. Maybe that’s too high a bar to shoot for, but he doesn’t care.

“I want to make you feel good,” Chris breathes. Zach’s breath hitches at that, and it goes straight to Chris’s cock, which is fully hard now and straining against his jeans. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and tries to imagine it’s Zach’s hand clutching him, stroking him, and groan falls from his mouth.

It’s almost a shock when Zach lets out an answering groan. “You will, baby. You will make me feel good. I have no doubt.”

“Zach,” Chris gasps. “God, can I--?”

“Yeah, do it. Get your cock out.”

Chris has his fly open and his jeans and briefs shoved down his thighs in record time. He doesn’t even bother to kick them all the way off in his haste to get a hand on himself--just leaves them stretched around his knees

“Don’t stop talking,” he says, trying and failing not to sound too desperate. “Are you touching yourself too?”

“Yeah, I am,” Zach says, and Chris immediately tries to picture it--Zach spread out on his bed, working himself over with one strong hand. “Fuck, I wish I was there with you. I want to get my hands on you so badly.”

“I want that too,” Chris says--and he means it. If Zach walked in the room right now, Chris doesn’t think he would hesitate even a little. “Tell me what you’d do, if you were here.”

“God, I’d...I’d take my time with you. I’d stroke you slowly, and put my mouth all over you--your neck, your stomach, your thighs--until you were begging me for more, faster.”

The image of Zach’s head between his legs is a powerful one. Chris can almost feel that silky hair between his fingers, and he lets out a little whine and jacks himself faster, gripping himself tighter like he figures Zach would.

“I bet your cock is gorgeous, just like the rest of you.” Zach’s voice sounds strained now, and if Chris listens hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the soft sound of skin on skin. “I can’t wait to get my hand on it, or my mouth on it. I want to memorize every inch of you. I want to watch your face while you come apart for me.”

“Yes,” Chris hisses, his hips coming off the bed for a moment as he fucks up into his hand. If Zach was here right now, he would certainly get to see Chris come apart. He feels like he is going to shake apart at the seams any second now.

“Is this doing anything for you?” Zach asks a little breathlessly, temporarily pulling Chris out of his head. The question seems ridiculous, but then again, Zach isn’t here. He can’t see that Chris is flushed all the way down to his chest, his head thrown back against the pillow, his cock hard and red and leaking.

“Fuck yes, Zach. Yes. Don’t stop. It’s so hot, it’s--”

Zach makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl, and he is right there in Chris’s ear, and for a moment it’s like he’s right there in bed with him too. “Oh _fuck_ , Chris. I want you. I want to taste you. I want to...I want to _fuck_ you.”

Chris comes with a surprised shout, just barely managing to ruck his shirt up out of the way in time for the mess to land on his stomach as he strokes himself through it, wringing out every last drop like he thinks Zach probably would if he were here. 

“Oh my God, did you just--?”

“Yeah,” Chris says. He’s still trying to wrap his mind around it himself, still trying to process the fact that _Zach_ helped make him come, that Zach told him he wants to fuck him and it gave him one of the most intense, toe-curling orgasms he has had just from touching himself. Jesus fuck.

“Chris,” Zach groans, and then the groan lengthens into a stream of low curses, and Chris keeps his eyes shut and imagines Zach spilling over his hand and his thighs and that trail of hair on his lower stomach. His dick gives one last little twitch at that, and he moans right along with Zach, wishing more than ever that he hadn’t decided to start this conversation on the phone in the first place. If he had waited until they were together, they could be lying side by side right now.

For a few moments afterward, they just breathe with each other, and Chris tries to calm his pounding heart and shaking hands. Come is cooling and congealing on his skin, but he doesn’t think he could move right now if he wanted to. There are shifting sounds on the other end of the line though, and he has a feeling Zach is being slightly more responsible.

“So, umm,” Zach says. “Are you...okay?”

Chris huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, Zach, I just had a pretty mind-blowing orgasm. I think I’m doing just fine.”

“You know what I mean,” Zach says, half exasperated and half hopeful. “You’re not grossed out or anything?”

Chris sighs and finally rolls to the side, then gropes around on the bedside table for some tissues. He pauses with the box clutched in his hand though, figuring he shouldn’t let Zach just sweat it out while he cleans up.

“Listen, I can’t promise you I’m going to be cool as a cucumber once...stuff starts to go down, but I have never once been _grossed out_. This is all weird and new for me, but...we can figure it out, okay? If you’re willing to be patient with me.”

Zach blows out a slow, relieved breath. “Okay. Yeah. I can be patient. I meant it when I said I think you’re worth the wait.”

Hearing the words again makes Chris feel just as warm and glowy as it did the first time, and he flops onto his back again and smiles, absently swiping at the mess on his stomach with a handful of tissues.

“I don’t think you’ll have to wait that long,” he says. He doesn’t want to get Zach’s hopes up or anything, but everything that just happened feels like a pretty good sign.

“Good,” Zach says. “Because I meant everything I said.”

It still makes Chris nervous to think about it all--about being on his knees in front of Zach, about Zach being _inside_ him--but this time when his stomach flips, it takes him a second to figure out whether it’s anxiety or arousal that does it. Maybe some of each. That’s progress, though. It feels like there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Chris asks.

“Uhh. I think I have something in the afternoon, but I could see you tomorrow evening?”

Chris grins at the ceiling. He would be thoroughly embarrassed by how much he feels like a teenage girl right now if there were anyone around to witness it. “Do you want to come over and watch a movie?”

“I don’t know, Chris. Are your parents going to be out of town?” Apparently Zach picked up on the teenage girl vibe he was putting out after all. Astute motherfucker.

“Fuck you,” Chris says with a laugh. “Are you coming over or not?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Zach says, his voice softer this time but no less amused. “I’ll have my older brother buy us some beer.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“I know.” He sounds almost proud of that fact.

Chris lets out a long-suffering sigh, but he is having no luck with wiping the grin off his face. “Okay, well. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Good night, Chris,” Zach says.

“Good night, Zach.”

As soon as the line goes dead, Chris drops his phone and rolls over and buries his face in the pillow. Even then, he can’t stop smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zach and Chris don't watch a movie, and then Chris finds out how long Zach has had feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I have to thank Juno for reading through this for me to help clean up some typos and awkward wording and stuff (and also for squeeing and making me feel good about it).
> 
> For another, I want to thank all of you for all the love I got on the first chapter. I can't tell you how amazing it made me feel, and I hope you like this chapter as well!
> 
> And lastly, I would like you all to feast your eyes on the this wonderful [comic](http://mohtz.tumblr.com/post/126152048941/so-i-know-this-has-already-been-posted-once-but) of part of the first scene of chapter one, drawn by mohtz. It's amazing! Be sure to give it some love/likes/reblogs if you can!

The very first time Chris had ever invited Zach over to his place--at the time, a modest-sized apartment in LA--it was a couple of weeks into filming the first Trek movie. They were still on their way to becoming fast friends then, but Zach had waltzed right in, grabbed a beer out of Chris’s fridge, and sprawled out on the couch like he had never been more at home. Years later, when Chris bought his first house, Zach had brought him a houseplant and rearranged the glasses in his cupboard and moved one of the chairs in his living room two feet to the left “to improve the feng shui”. And when Chris shipped a few things to the New York apartment he is living in now, right before they left for the press tour, Zach came over and helped unpack his books and arranged them alphabetically by author without being asked.

So it’s weird when Chris actually has to _invite_ Zach to come inside and _tell_ him to have a seat. And then Zach says “thank you” when Chris brings him a beer, and it takes a lot of willpower not to ask him who he is and what he’s done with his best friend. In Chris’s experience, Zachary Quinto is a man of few boundaries. He stepped inside Chris’s life and spread out to fill as much space as he could. Now, everything is just slightly off, and though Chris knows that Zach is probably just trying to respect the new parameters of their relationship, he isn’t sure that he likes it.

“So,” Chris says as he settles on the couch next to Zach, close enough but not so close as to trigger his own irritating bashfulness. “I got the latest Captain America from Red Box.”

Zach looks down at the DVD on the coffee table and then looks up at Chris. The expression on his face is indecipherable. “Can we watch something else?”

Chris sets his beer down and jumps up automatically, his cheeks reddening. He didn’t think it was a bad choice in movie--something not too heavy, full of action, pretty much perfect for a date--but apparently he was wrong. Normally he would just shrug it off--he and Zach have been arguing about matters of taste for years--but he is overly concerned with things going right tonight. Having Zach shoot down his movie choice is embarrassing.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course.” He takes a couple of steps toward the entertainment center, then stops short and turns on his heel. “Did you already see it, or…?”

Zach leans forward, forearms on his knees. “No. I haven’t seen it yet. That’s why I’d rather watch something else.”

Chris frowns. “Uhh. What?”

Zach stares at Chris for what feels like a long time, then his gaze sweeps down his body and back up, and all of a sudden what Chris sees there makes his mouth go dry. He has known Zach a long, long time, but he has never seen that look in his eyes before.

“I didn’t expect to be paying all that much attention to the movie, Chris.”

 _Oh._ It isn’t like Chris hasn’t thought about what might happen tonight. In fact, it’s all he’s thought about since he hung up with Zach last night. He thought he had talked himself out of being too trepidatious, but now Zach is looking up at him through those thick lashes of his, all earnestness and desire, and Chris forgets how to move or breathe or do anything but stare for several moments.

“I mean, if you’re not…” Zach starts, then trails off like he doesn’t know what to say. Chris sees the shutters start to close behind his eyes, and no, he has to put a stop to that right now.

“No, it’s...it’s fine. I…” He takes a breath and drags his eyes away from Zach’s for just a moment, looking down at the floor and then back up. The small break in eye contact helps a little, lets him gather his courage. “I’ve been thinking about...things. About...kissing you again?”

There is a question in his voice, because he has a feeling Zach is thinking about a whole lot more than that, but he hopes just that much is okay for now. He can still hear Zach’s voice in his ear, low and dark and sinful, telling him that he wants to fuck him, but with Zach sitting right there in front of him now, that prospect seems much more daunting.

Zach smiles though--just a little--and stretches out a hand. “Come here. Let’s forget about the movie for a minute.”

The movie idea was safe, a way to ease into it, and there’s a part of Chris that wants to dig in his heels now, but Zach is pulling him in like gravity. Before he really knows what is happening his fingers are sliding into Zach’s, and he is being tugged in between his spread knees. Zach leans back against the back of the couch and looks up at Chris and bites down on his bottom lip, and Chris feels heat start to creep its way up his neck.

“Zach,” he says. He is pretty sure he means it as a plea, but he isn’t sure what he’s pleading for. A break in the tension maybe. Anything that might take his mind off the butterflies the size of albatrosses flapping around in his stomach.

Zach smiles again and gives Chris’s hand another tug, and Chris just takes a deep breath and goes with it, letting himself be pulled forward until he is curled over Zach, one hand bracing on the back of the couch. Then, Zach drops Chris’s hand and reaches up to palm the back of his neck instead, pulling him down until their foreheads are touching. For a moment, neither of them moves. Chris has to shut his eyes, because Zach is too close, and it’s too much, being looked at like that, like he’s everything Zach could ever want. But then Zach tilts his chin up and presses their mouths together, and Chris can’t do anything but melt into it.

He is at least getting used to the kissing part now. Their previous two dates were in public, so the PDA had to be kept to a minimum, but they had kissed goodnight both times, so Chris is becoming familiar with the stubble that frames Zach’s lips and the callused fingers that touch his jaw. From this angle, it’s even less intimidating. Zach’s head is tipped back, and Chris recognizes that he is giving up some of the control too, letting Chris set the pace and the intensity and then matching it rather than trying to push things forward.

It’s good at first--comforting that Zach is trying to be mindful of Chris’s Big Gay Freakout--but then Chris starts to notice that it feels...not like Zach. And that actually _isn’t_ helping with with the Big Gay Freakout. The more careful Zach is with him, the less he seems like the Zach that Chris is used to, and the easier it is to focus on the fact that he is a man--the first man Chris has been with like this.

The kiss breaks on Chris’s distressed sound.

“Hey,” Zach says, immediately going into concerned mode. “Are you--”

Chris cuts him off by dropping a hand to his shoulder, curling his fingers into the fabric of his shirt, and shaking his head. “No. Wait. Just...can we try something?”

Zach nods without hesitation. “Anything.”

“Can we pretend...can _you_ pretend that this isn’t all new to me?” Zach opens his mouth, but Chris rushes on before he has a chance to protest. “You acting spooked all the time is making _me_ feel spooked, and it’s just...it’s not working.”

“Chris…” Zach doesn’t look like he thinks that’s a very good idea. But he didn’t immediately put his foot down, so Chris pounces on that hesitation, blundering right on before Zach can say anything else.

“I can always stop you if something freaks me out, but I don’t like being handled with kid gloves. Not by you. It’s _weird_.”

Zach sighs, then searches Chris’s face like he’s looking for a reason to disagree with him. But Chris sets his jaw and projects as much stubbornness as he can muster. Zach doesn’t seem quite ready to give in, though.

“I’m afraid if I push too hard, I’ll ruin things.”

“That won’t happen,” Chris insists. “This is _us_ , Zach. I’m not going to run scared at the slightest provocation.”

“You don’t know that.”

Chris tries his best not to take that personally. He tries his best to remember that this can’t be easy on Zach either. And Zach has been understanding with him, so the least he can do is be understanding in return.

It still hurts a little, to not be taken at his word.

“Zach,” Chris says with a sigh. He releases Zach’s shirt and flops down on the couch next to him so they can be eye to eye. “Look, if this doesn’t work out, it’s not going to be because you pushed too hard. I can’t promise you it’s going to be happily ever after, but I can promise you that much.”

Zach’s expression flickers just a little, and it’s just enough of a crack in his armor that Chris glimpses a hint of a more familiar Zach, one that isn’t holding things back from him.

“You’ll tell me as soon as you start to feel uncomfortable?” Zach asks tentatively.

Chris shrugs. “I might try to push through it a little bit, but yeah. If it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”

Zach peers at him for a moment, then chuckles and drags a hand over his face. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try to chill.”

“Good.” Chris smiles a shaky smile and gives Zach knee a pat. He hopes he won’t regret asking for this, but obviously _something_ has to change, or else they are going to end up tiptoeing around each other until one of them gets fed up, and that would be the worst possible outcome.

Zach covers Chris’s had with his and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s pick out a movie.”

After a little back and forth, they end up picking _The Sting_ out of Chris’s personal movie collection. After popping it in the DVD player, Chris sits back down next to Zach, and Zach immediately curls an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close. He smiles and lets himself melt into it, drawing comfort from Zach’s solid presence like he has during dozens of press junkets and red carpets. Granted, they never touched quite like this during any of those, but the feeling it gives Chris is much the same. Zach’s closeness drains some of the tension out of him and makes him feel safer, more comfortable.

He makes it through about twenty minutes of the movie before the peacefulness that has overtaken him starts to give way to something else. He finds himself focusing on the way Zach’s chest rises and falls, the way his breath is warm on the side of his face, where their heads are tipped together. Every so often, Zach squeezes his shoulder and then scratches his fingernails across the skin of his bicep, and at first it was just comforting, but now it’s starting to raise gooseflesh along the backs of his arms. Zach feels long and lean and warm where their torsos are pressed together, and he smells so damn good, and suddenly Chris can’t pay attention to the movie at all.

Either Zach notices the change in his breathing, or he has been thinking the same thing, because he turns his head and noses along Chris’s cheek, then drags his mouth gently across his jaw. Chris grips his own thighs tight and tries to keep his breathing even, but it’s no use. He feels like Zach is snatching the oxygen away before it can get to his lungs.

“Having trouble breathing there, Chris?” Zach murmurs into his ear.

The teasing actually helps, and Chris lets out a breathy little chuckle as he tilts his head to the side so Zach has an easier time mouthing at his neck. “Okay, I changed my mind. You can go back to being too careful with me.”

Chris feels Zach’s laugh about as much as he hears it. “Too late. You’ve let me out of my cage.”

Then firm fingers are gripping his chin, turning his face away from the screen and toward Zach’s, and Chris’s eyes fall shut as their lips meet again.

Zach is still gentle, but this time it’s not a tentative gentleness. This time he is in complete control, and he seems to be deliberately trying to wind Chris up, drawing back a little every time Chris leans closer, moving to kiss the corner of his mouth every time he parts his lips to invite Zach in. It isn’t until he hears himself whine that he realizes how brilliant a strategy it is, how Zach is making Chris want him without pushing too hard, but also without walking on eggshells.

“Mmm, come here,” Zach murmurs between kisses, tugging on Chris’s thigh. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with what Zach is requesting and another moment to gather his courage, but then Chris swings one leg across Zach’s lap, straddling him. He starts to settle with his hips well away from Zach’s, but Zach’s hands settle on his waist and tug him in close, until Chris can feel Zach hot and hard against him. He gasps and drops his head to Zach’s shoulder so he can catch his breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

“That’s what you do to me, Chris,” says Zach’s voice in his ear. “I’ve been hard since you sat down. I want you so badly.”

Chris pants and rolls his forehead against Zach’s shoulder, then moans when Zach’s fingers slide up under the back of his t-shirt to stroke the skin at the small of his back. He feels like a fucking teenager all over again, like he has no idea what to do with the way his body is reacting. His fingers are fitted to Zach’s ribs, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to move them up or down or not move them all. He doesn’t know whether to roll his hips or try to scoot away. For a few moments, he’s not even sure if he knows his own name anymore. And Zach has barely touched him at this point.

“You’re going to have to give me a hint here,” Zach says. He runs his hands further up under Chris’s shirt, palms sliding against his skin. “I need to know what you want. What you’re okay with.”

But Chris doesn’t _know_. He picks his head up and looks Zach in the eye, trying to make sure the man sitting there still resembles the one that he knew a few weeks ago. And he is surprised by how much he does. Zach’s expression is full of an unfamiliar kind of desire, sure, but there is a softness in his eyes that Chris has seen hundreds of times--at the end of a long day of press, or after they nailed a scene together, or when they were saying goodbye outside airport security, not quite sure when they would see each other again.

He takes a deep breath. “I want to...can I look at you?” He trails his fingers down Zach’s stomach and looks down pointedly, hoping Zach will catch his drift.

Zach hums and surges up for another kiss, and this time he doesn’t tease him. His tongue slides along the seam of Chris’s lips until he parts them, and then Zach is licking into his mouth like he has always had a standing invitation. The world narrows down to just Zach’s mouth--the slick slide his tongue distracting Chris from the fact that his hands have retreated from under his shirt. Until the sound of a zipper has him turning his head to the side to break the kiss.

He looks down just in time to see Zach scoop himself out of his underwear. Chris’s fingers scrabble and then grasp at Zach’s shirt, over his chest, as he stares down between their bodies and watches Zach wrap a hand around the base of his dick, presenting himself completely unselfconsciously for Chris’s inspection.

And what reason should he have to be self-conscious? He’s fucking perfect, like Chris sort of knew he would be. His cock is long--longer than Chris’s by maybe an inch but a little less thick--and uncut. It's more intimidating than it should be. It obviously isn’t the first time Chris has seen another guy’s equipment, but it’s the first time he’s been this close, the first time he has actually intended to _do_ something with it.

Although the way he feels now, he isn’t sure he has it in him to do much of anything.

As if reading his mind, Zach jacks himself once, slowly, then leans forward and kisses Chris’s cheek in a way that’s almost too sweet given the circumstances. “I’m not going to ask you if you’re panicking, but if you could just say, like, something…”

That’s a fair request. Something. Chris can say something. He opens and shuts his mouth like a fish a few times, and then lets one of his hands fall to curl around Zach’s forearm. “Fuck,” is the word that ends up coming out of his mouth.

Zach chuckles. “It’s probably a _little_ bit soon for that.”

“Oh, fuck,” Chris says again, a little more shakily this time. He can’t really picture that thing going anywhere near his ass at the moment.

“Hey.” Zach reaches out and hooks the fingers of his free hand under Chris’s chin, making him look up at his face for a moment instead. “Remember, you said you’d tell me if--”

“No, I know. It’s not that. Just. It’s a lot, but I’m...I’m fine. I like…” He moves his hand from Zach’s forearm and looks down again as he strokes his fingers over the back of the hand Zach has wrapped around himself. “I like this. Watching you.”

Zach lets out a little breath, almost but not quite a relieved sigh. “You want to watch me?”

Chris nods, his hand retreating to the safety of his own thigh. Watching seems pretty safe, for now, and he can’t deny that he likes the idea more than he thought he would. He looks up again to find Zach searching his face, and he tries to school his expression into something eager and expectant, though he has a feeling some of his nervousness is probably showing through. Zach keeps to his word and doesn’t second-guess him though. Instead, he taps Chris on the hip.

“Lift up for a minute? I need to--” He makes a gesture toward the open flaps of his pants. Chris obediently sits up on his knees, and then Zach lifts his hips enough to push down his pants and briefs, letting them pool around his shins. Once he’s settled, Chris tentatively lowers his weight back down onto his naked thighs. He isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed that there is still a layer of clothing between them, but he does know that he is glad he can see Zach better this way. On a whim, he rests a hand on Zach’s stomach and rucks his shirt up a few inches, revealing a little more of the oddly appealing trail of hair that leads to his groin. Then Zach is closing his fist around himself again, and Chris can’t look away.

“What are you thinking, baby?” Zach asks, his voice low and rough. Chris swallows hard.

“I like it when you do that,” he says. “When you call me that, I mean.” It’s not quite the answer Zach was probably looking for, but it’s something.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris says with a nod. Zach’s hand is moving now, slowly and almost lazily, his grip tightening around the head.

“Can you...keep talking?” Zach asks. He already seems a little winded.

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“It...it doesn’t matter. Just love the sound of your voice.”

Chris’s fingers flex involuntarily in the fabric of Zach’s shirt while he tries to gather his confidence, and then he dares to let go and slide his hand down to rest on the skin of Zach’s stomach. When that much doesn’t freak him out, he pushes Zach’s shirt up farther, revealing more of his lean torso, then the patch of hair on his chest.

“I was picturing this the other night,” Chris murmurs. “When we were on the phone. I was thinking about what this would look like.” His gaze drifts down to the shifting muscles in Zach’s forearm, and then finally back down to his red and leaking cock. He’s so hard, so big. Chris is torn between a desire to touch and a desire to jump up and run away, but the former is definitely growing stronger by the minute.

“Does it live up to your expectations?” Zach sounds like he’s trying to be cocky about it, but Chris doesn’t miss the undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice or the way his hand falters for half a second. Chris can only shake his head though, at a loss for how to answer. He feels Zach’s eyes on his face, but he can’t bring himself to look up again.

Finally, he swallows hard. “I really want to see you come.”

“Jesus,” Zach hisses. “Yeah, you’re going to, Chris. Fuck.”

“I...I think I want to…” Chris’s fingers go to his own fly. He’s so fucking hard, and all of a sudden he’s desperate to get a hand on himself.

“Yeah, do it. Let me see you.”

Chris sits up a little and pushes his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He can feel his face grow hot at the thought that Zach is going to see him, going to _watch_ him, but right now the strength of his need is greater than the strength of his anxiety. It helps that when he glances at Zach’s face, he is looking at Chris like something he wants to devour, his lips parted and his breathing labored. When Chris settles back into his lap, their forearms brush, and both of them gasp at the contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zach groans. Their eyes meet, and Chris chokes on an incredulous sound. “So beautiful. I knew you would be.”

Chris is so close already, and he has no idea how that happened. He shifts his hips forward a little bit, and his knuckles brush Zach’s, and the little touch makes his stomach flip. When he looks down again, their cocks are so close to each other, almost touching. All it would take is just a little shift and they could be--

A frisson of panic shoots up Chris’s spine, and he leans in to rest his temple against Zach’s, hoping the closeness will calm him. It does, a little. Zach’s free hand comes up to wrap strong and steadying around the base of Chris’s neck, and he makes a low noise that seems half meant to be soothing and half meant to express his pleasure. Chris tilts his chin down so he can look between their bodies, and his sees Zach’s hand hasn’t slowed a bit, but from this angle it is less frightening, more intimate.

“Chris, I’m so close,” Zach says. His breath is scorching the skin behind Chris’s ear. Chris scratches his nails through the hair on Zach’s chest and then lays his palm over his heart, feels how hard and fast it’s beating. That’s for him. That’s all for him. He feels like he is going to burst into flame.

He shifts his hips again just slightly, guides with his hand, and then the silky head of Zach’s dick is resting against his. Zach makes a shocked sound, and tenses, arching up, and then splashes of come are hitting Chris’s wrist, Zach’s stomach, his chest. Chris pulls back just in time to catch Zach’s expression--his eyes shut, his mouth slack with rapture and what might be awe, and that is what does it. That is what pulls Chris over the edge too, makes him spill onto Zach’s skin and crush their mouths together in an inelegant kiss.

It makes Chris feel better that, in the aftermath, Zach is panting just as hard as he is, his hand shaking a little where it is resting on the back of Chris’s neck. Even if everything is affecting them in different ways, at least they are in this together. At least they are both undone by each other.

“Oh God, you’re so perfect,” Zach says, his lips brushing Chris’s. Chris can’t bring himself to pull away yet. “Chris, fuck. What are you doing to me?”

Chris can only shake his head, not sure he even has the power of speech yet. The movie is still playing in the background, but he can barely hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

“Stay tonight,” he rasps at last. “Stay with me.”

Zach is nodding almost before Chris finishes the question. He tilts his head to smear another kiss across Chris’s mouth, then drops his head down to his shoulder, clutching him tight. Neither of them seems in a hurry to get up and clean up yet.

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” Zach whispers.

Chris clings to him fiercely, his heart so full it hurts.

\--------

It’s been a long, long time since Chris woke up to a warm body pressed against his. It’s disorienting at first--he typically doesn’t end up the little spoon, and the chest pressed up against his back is broad and hirsute and definitely lacking in breasts--but after a moment, Chris finds himself melting into Zach’s warmth. There is a little hum of awareness in his ear, then a hand sliding across his stomach, and Chris smiles in spite of himself. He can see himself getting used to this.

“You awake?” Zach murmurs, his breath warm against the back of Chris’s neck.

“Yeah.” He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, though, because being fully awake means he is going to have to get out of bed at some point, and this feels way too good. He doesn’t even want to move too much for fear that Zach will move too. But Zach just makes a little contented sound and tightens the arm he has hooked around Chris’s torso. Chris can feel him half-hard against the back of his thigh, but he forces himself not to focus on it, instead enjoying the way Zach’s calf slides between his.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, reaching down to threads his fingers through Zach’s.

“Mmhmm, anything.”

“Why did you say yes to me? When I asked you out?”

Zach huffs and nuzzles into the back of Chris’s neck, pressing his nose into his hair. “What kind of question is that?”

“I just mean...you never gave any indication that you had feelings for me.”

“Chris,” Zach says, his tone almost scolding. “I thought--no, I _knew_ you were straight. The first rule of being gay is not to proposition your straight friends, if you want to keep them.”

Chris shrugs a little. “Still, I had no idea.”

There is a little shuffling behind him, and then Zach is moving away a little and tugging on Chris’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back so he can lean over and look him in the eye. “I told you a million stories about therapy, about trying to get past my fear of commitment and my inability to stop falling for unobtainable men, and you seriously never thought you were one of those men?”

Chris shakes his head. It honestly had never once occurred to him. Maybe some of that was because he was so deep in denial about his attraction to Zach that it carried over into denial that Zach could ever be attracted to him. Even when he did start to acknowledge that his feelings might be less than platonic, he had been afraid that he wasn’t Zach’s type. Or that Zach was out of his league. Or that he just never saw him that way. As close as they have become over the years they have known each other, Zach always seemed untouchable in certain ways, like parts of him were always going to be off limits. Now it occurs to him that Zach might have been holding those parts back on purpose, closing off doors in his heart so Chris couldn’t reach those parts.

“How long?” Chris asks, looking up at Zach’s face. He wants to reach up and brush hair off Zach’s forehead, but he doesn’t trust himself to touch right now. The moment is already too poignant.

Zach looks away for a second. “When we first read together, for Kirk and Spock.”

“What?” Chris breathes.

Zach’s looks back at him, and there is a weird intensity in his gaze now. He places his hand in the center of Chris’s chest and then slides it a little to the right, over his heart. “I can’t believe you still have no idea how you affect people.” Chris just shakes his head dumbly, so Zach takes a breath and goes on. “You weren’t even sure it was right for you at that point, you remember? I had to talk you into it, and you were...you were terrified, I could tell. But you just...you fucking nailed it. You gave it everything, and you just laid yourself bare, and you slayed everyone in the room. And I remember thinking that if I had to pick anyone that I was going to have to work with for the next ten years of my life, it would be you.”

“Zach,” Chris says with a nervous laugh. “It was just an audition.”

“To you, maybe,” Zach says, shrugging one shoulder. He moves his fingers to Chris’s jaw, just resting them there lightly. “Anyway, I’m not saying I fell head over heels in love with you then. I did a… _pretty_ good job of never letting myself fall that hard. It was hard sometimes, but I knew you were off limits.”

“You thought,” Chris points out, covering Zach’s hand with his.

“I knew,” Zach insists, but he smiles. “This is all a dream, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’s not.” Chris props himself up a little on his elbows, arching toward Zach’s mouth but not kissing him yet. “I haven’t ruled out shared psychosis yet, though.”

“Hmm,” Zach tilts his head a little, his nose brushing Chris’s cheek. “I could live with that, as long as we don’t snap out of it.”

Chris finally touches him then, reaching up and sliding his fingers through the hair at the back of Zach’s head. “I won’t let you snap out of it.”

Zach’s eyes go dark and desperate, and then he pushes Chris down to the bed and kisses him hard, like he’s trying to prove this is real. Chris wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him close and arches up, giving Zach as much evidence as he can. Madness or not--and all anxiety aside--this is the realest thing Chris has ever felt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris needs to learn to talk about his feelings. It's a good thing Zach already knows him well enough to see right through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me a little longer to get up, guys. I've been dealing with a lot of work stress and stuff, but the muses finally smiled upon me. Thank you for your patience, and for all your encouragement along the way!

Skunk is judging him, Chris is pretty sure. He has always looked like a tiny, angry old man, but never more so than right now, staring up at Chris with those beady little eyes as if to say, “I know what you’re up to.”

“He’s coming right back,” Chris says. This is what he has been reduced to--having a conversation with a dog in the middle of the sidewalk. “Dogs are not welcome in chic Manhattan coffee shops.”

As soon as Zach handed off the leashes, Noah flopped down at Chris’s feet and put his head on his paws, like this is just another day in the life. And maybe it is. Chris and Noah go way back--their love is built on many scraps of chicken slid under the table and countless doggie kisses. To Skunk, however, Chris probably just seems like an interloper, a guy who comes and goes but never stays for long.

“Get used to it, Mr. Grumpypants,” Chris says. “This is the first of many walks.”

Skunk just looks even grumpier. He huffs and turns his head away. Chris rolls his eyes...then looks over his shoulder to make sure there aren’t any paps nearby that might have heard that one-sided conversation. He doesn’t need tomorrow’s tabloid headlines speculating whether Chris Pine has lost his mind. Or speculating about anything else, for that matter. Like the fact that Chris is standing on the sidewalk with Zachary Quinto’s dogs.

“Here you go, babe,” says Zach at his ear, and Chris jumps what feels like ten feet in the air and whirls back around.

“Jesus, Zach.” He takes the coffee Zach is holding out to him and then passes back the dogs’ leashes. Skunk skitters over to stand in Zach’s shadow, while Noah doesn’t bother to move. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Zach narrows his eyes a little but doesn’t comment on Chris’s jumpiness. “Here, I got you a bagel too. Blueberry schmear. I figure it’s been like an hour since you ate, so you must be about to chew off your own hand by now.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but the teasing gets a smile out of him and eases the persistent jangle of his nerves. “Okay, I’m not _that_ bad,” he says, even as he grabs the paper sack. Except, yeah, he appreciates the gesture, and his stomach is already rumbling a little at the prospect of delicious carbs and sweet blueberry spread. Zach definitely holds the key to Chris’s heart. He holds the whole keyring, in fact. And that’s still a little scary.

“You’re welcome,” Zach says, raising an eyebrow.

Chris winces, his chest tightening with genuine guilt. “Sorry. Thanks, man, seriously.”

Zach smiles at him then, wide and easy, and nudges Chris’s shoulder with the back of his wrist. It’s obviously the most affectionate of a gesture he can give with coffee in one hand and dog leashes in the other, and Chris feels a brief flash of relief followed by another wave of guilt. He looks down and away, his face flushing.

When Zach had offered to walk him home, Chris thought it was a sweet gesture, and he had agreed right away. But the truth is, as nerve-wracking as it is being with Zach behind closed doors, it’s a hundred times worse being with him out in the open, on a sidewalk crowded with people. Since the moment they stepped out of Zach’s building, Chris’s brain has been going a mile a minute, wondering if everyone they pass can tell something’s different, wondering what Zach expects--if they should be holding hands or acting all coupley or if Zach is just as iffy about shining a light on their maybe-relationship as Chris is.

Their first two dates might have been in public, but those were _before_ the hot and heavy moment on Chris’s couch. In the week that has passed since then, they mostly stayed in. There were a couple more aborted attempts at watching movies and a couple of intense handjobs--which Chris is still trying to get used to, if he’s being honest--but no serious talks and no plans to go out again and definitely no defining what would happen when they _do_ go out again.

Zach has been out for five years, and Chris doesn’t want to force him back into the closet now. He _wouldn’t_ force him back into the closet--he’d fucking recuse himself from this relationship before doing that to him. He had just kidded himself into thinking there would be more of a grace period, more time to figure out how he felt about all this before he had to start thinking about publicly acknowledging their feelings for each other.

It isn’t until they are practically at his door that Chris realizes he has been walking along in complete silence, wrestling with his thoughts and munching on his bagel and completely ignoring Zach.

“Hey, you mind if I come up for a little bit?” Zach asks. Chris can hear the concern in his voice, and it makes his heart do a panicky little tapdance. He doesn’t want to have this conversation yet. Not until he’s absolutely sure what he wants to say, or what he wants in general. But he can’t tell Zach no.

“No, ‘course not,” he says, flashing a tight smile. He tosses his empty coffee cup and empty bagel wrapper into a nearby trash can and then jogs a couple steps ahead to hold the door open for Zach and the dogs.

The elevator ride is quiet and tense. Chris knows Zach probably just wants to wait for the relative safety of Chris’s apartment before he says anything, but Chris is just trying to figure out how he can put this off a little longer. Obviously he can’t convince Zach that nothing is wrong--he knows him way too well for that--but maybe he can convince him he has something _else_ on his mind.

And that is why, as soon as they are inside the door and the dogs are unclipped and off exploring the new place, he launches himself at Zach, throws him arms around his neck, and kisses him hard.

Zach makes a little _mmph_ sound against Chris’s mouth, but he doesn’t push him away yet. Instead, his hands come up to grip Chris’s waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles across his stomach. He is trying to gentle the kiss, resisting the insistent sweep of Chris’s tongue and meeting the harsh pressure of his lips with tender, tentative nibbles, but Chris is having none of it. He makes a frustrated sound and backs Zach up against the wall, gets a thigh between Zach’s and rolls their hips together.

Zach breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Chris.”

Chris ignores him, moving his mouth to Zach’s neck and then sliding his hands down his chest to his fly. Zach snatches at his wrists half-heartedly, but he easily shakes him off, grinning with smug satisfaction at the way Zach’s hips push against his hands. Later he’ll probably feel like a dick for taking this much advantage of how badly Zach wants him, but for now, this is better. This is better than the alternative. He takes a deep breath, then sinks to his knees.

Like flipping a switch, Zach goes tense all over. He reached down and fits his fingers to Chris’s chin, pushing him back and gripping him hard--too hard. “Chris, stop.”

Blood rushes to Chris’s face, and he looks away so he doesn’t have to see that confused, disappointed look in Zach’s eyes. The fact that Zach has every right to be disappointed just makes it worse. Chris knows he is being reckless, and that this fragile thing that’s building between them deserves so much more care than this. It’s just so fucking _hard_. He has no idea how to navigate this situation, and normally he would be turning to Zach for advice, but he _can’t_. Or at least it doesn’t seem like he can.

With a groan, he jerks his chin out of Zach’s bruising grasp and then leans forward, burying his face in his stomach. Zach won’t let him hide though. His hand falls to Chris’s shoulder, pushing him back a little so he can drop to his knees too, down to Chris’s level. Chris tries hard not to feel like a child.

“You’re scaring me,” Zach says quietly. He strokes his fingers across Chris’s cheekbones, then leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The gentleness of it makes Chris feel like his chest is being split open. He gasps, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be sorry,” Zach says. Then, softer, he adds, “Look at me.”

Chris takes a deep breath and then forces himself to open his eyes and tentatively meet Zach’s gaze. He sees worry there, but he also sees affection, unwavering support, and a genuine desire to know what’s bothering him. A surge of emotion makes Chris’s throat close up. 

“How about you tell me what’s wrong?” Zach prompts gently.

Chris swallows hard and sits back on his heels, and Zach lets go of his face and grabs his hands instead, squeezing them reassuringly. For a moment, Chris just stares down at their intertwined fingers. If he could just sit here forever and hold Zach’s hands, that would be perfect, but even if Zach would let him, the outside world wouldn’t. Life has to move forward eventually. 

“Do you want...do you want people to know? About us?” Chris asks. He forces himself to look up again to see Zach’s reaction.

Zach frowns. “Now? Right now?”

“I-I guess?” Chris takes a moment, gathering his thoughts enough to say what he means. “With anyone else, you wouldn’t bother to hide, right? Even if it had only been a few dates.”

“Well, first of all, you aren’t anyone else,” Zach says with a small smile. It’s probably supposed to be reassuring, but Chris grimaces. 

“That’s the problem. I _want_ to be like anyone else. But I don’t know if I’m ready for it. Just walking down the street with you…” He takes one of his hands back so he can make a vague gesture of uncertainty and defeat. 

“We’ve walked down the street together dozens of times, Chris. Even been caught out by the cameras.”

“Yeah, but that was before. I’m afraid everyone will look at us and just _know_ now, and--”

“And you don’t want them to know,” Zach finishes for him. The understanding in his voice makes Chris’s chest ache. “Which is why my second point was going to be that there are two of us here. It’s not just about what I want.”

“And it shouldn’t just be about what I want either!” Chris huffs, then runs his hand over his face. “I don’t want you to change your whole life for me.”

“It’s not forever, though,” Zach says patiently. “You deserve time to figure things out. I don’t know why you have it in your head that I’m going to expect everything to be perfect right from the get-go, but I’m not grading you on how fast you ramp up into this relationship, okay? It’s not like it’s easy for me either.”

Chris looks steadily at Zach for several moments, trying to gauge how honest he is being. But Zach doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything. His expression is open and honest. His thumb is gently stroking the heel of Chris’s hand, and his other hand has found Chris’s waist. The touches are grounding, comforting. 

“Why isn’t it easy for you?” Chris asks after a moment.

Zach chuckles like he thinks that’s a silly question. “Because you’re important to me. Because I really want this to work.”

Chris looks away again. He really wants this to work too--more than he could ever say--but it’s hard not to feel like that all rests on his shoulders. He has to get it together, or he’s going to hurt them both. Zach would probably scold him for thinking that way, but that doesn’t make it any less true. 

“Take me to bed,” he says quietly, once he can bring himself to look at Zach’s face again. He can see Zach start to protest, but he shakes his head to stop him. “No, just...talking isn’t going to help. I’m just thinking too much, and...please. I just want to be with you right now.”

Zach sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and studies Chris’s face for a moment. Then, his eyes soften. He smiles. “Okay. Come on. I have an idea.”

An idea? That sounds vaguely ominous. Chris was just hoping for some making out, maybe Zach’s hand on him, maybe a little more than that if he feels brave enough. He lets Zach lead him to his own bedroom without protest though, because as much as he’s nervous, he’s also curious. 

Zach closes Chris’s bedroom door behind them to keep the dogs out, and the click of the latch makes Chris’s heart rate ratchet up in a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Zach turns to him with an affectionate smile, then crosses the room and takes his face in his hands. He kisses Chris sweetly, gently. 

“Take your shirt off and lie down,” Zach says when they break apart. When he sees the uncertainty in Chris’s eyes, he adds, “On your stomach. I’m going to help you relax.”

Chris does as he is told--peels off his T-shirt and then settles on top of the comforter with his cheek pillowed on his folded forearms. 

“Do you have some lotion somewhere?” Zach asks.

“Bathroom cabinet,” Chris answers.

It takes a minute or two for Zach to retrieve it, and then the bed dips and warm weight settles across Chris’s upper thighs, Zach’s knees bracketing his hips. Chris reminds himself to breathe.

“This is going to be cold, sorry,” Zach says sheepishly, and then his palms meet Chris’s shoulders. Chris jerks a little at the shock of the chilly lotion, even though Zach warned him, but it doesn’t take long for it to warm up as Zach’s hands start to slide over his skin, down his spine, along his shoulder blades. 

Chris has always enjoyed a good massage, and though Zach is no professional, his touch is firm and unrelenting, just the way Chris likes it. He isn’t afraid to dig his thumbs into knots of tension, to push Chris into the bed until the air is forced out of his lungs and he can’t help but grunt his appreciation. It’s easier to clear his mind like this, when he can focus on the way Zach’s hands feel against his skin and on the achy pleasure of his muscles loosening and relaxing. 

“Good?” Zach asks. Chris just hums at him and burrows his nose deeper into the crook of his elbow. He watches dust motes in the sunlight streaming through the blinds and listens to the sound of Zach’s breathing. By the time Zach’s hands slow and eventually still against the small of his back, Chris is feeling boneless and relaxed, a hundred times better than he had when they first walked into the apartment. For what seems like the hundredth time in just a couple weeks, he has to marvel at how Zach always seems to know how to make things better.

“How about I make you a deal,” Zach says. His voice sounds close, like he is bending low over Chris’s back. Chris resists the urge to squirm against him in search of more contact. “Let’s get rid of the complicated stuff, okay? For the next two weeks, we won’t go out in public together. No eating out, no movies, no walks, nothing. We’ll do all our dates at each other’s places.”

Chris does squirm then, and Zach seems to get the idea, because he lifts up enough for Chris to turn over on his back and look up at him. “That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

Zach rolls his eyes. “It’s two weeks, Chris. I’ll live. If anything, that might not be _enough_ time. But I want us to have some time where the only thing we’re worrying about is this relationship, and whether it’s going to work long term, and whether it’s what you--what we really want.” He stretches out on top of Chris, slotting his hips in between Chris’s thighs and propping himself up on his elbows so he can still look at his face. “In two weeks, you start filming, and we can reevaluate then. See how you feel.”

“How _we_ feel,” Chris insists. He knows that he is the real sticking point here, and that Zach probably has far more desires and convictions than he is letting on, but he doesn’t want to feel alone in all this right now.

“How we feel,” Zach echoes. He reaches out to drag his fingers along Chris’s jaw, then run a thumb over his bottom lip. “And you have to promise me something.”

“Okay,” Chris breathes.

“You have to promise me you’ll tell me if something starts to scare you or bother you. I know you don’t want me treating you like you’re breakable, but we have to be in this together. You can’t isolate yourself inside that head of yours.”

Zach’s right, of course. It’s neither fair nor smart for Chris to shut him out. They are supposed to be in this together, figuring this out together, and so far being honest with Zach has only been good. It’s just hard to go from ostensibly straight and almost perpetually single to wrestling with serious relationship issues with another _man_ , and Chris is pretty sure the adjustment period is going to take a hell of a lot longer than the two weeks that have already passed and the two they have ahead of them. But baby steps. He needs to be content with baby steps.

“Okay. I promise,” he says quietly. He really, really, hopes he can live up to that promise.

Zach smiles, then leans in and kisses him--a deep, thorough kiss that feels oddly like a reward and sparks an even odder sensation of pride and safety in Chris’s chest. He lets out a little whimper, then arches against Zach, seeking more.

Zach breaks the kiss and props himself up again, searching Chris’s face. “Back there...in the front hall. Did you really want...that, or were you just trying to distract me?”

Chris’s first instinct is to shut his eyes and hide again, but he doesn’t let himself this time. “Mostly trying to distract you,” he admits. “That still...intimidates me. But I do...I want to. Eventually.”

Zach looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. “Okay. But not today.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, so Chris doesn’t say anything, just stares up at Zach and looks for hints as to what he’s thinking. If all their years of friendship have taught him anything, it’s that Zach will eventually say what’s on his mind, if Chris only waits for it.

“How would you feel about me blowing you, though?” Zach says at last. “Would that freak you out?”

“Umm.” Chris tries to think about it, but his thoughts have turned to molasses, and he feels slow and stupid under Zach’s gaze.

“Don’t overthink it,” Zach warns. He leans in and nuzzles his nose into the sensitive skin behind Chris’s ear, then places a sucking kiss there that threatens to reduce Chris to a puddle. “Yes or no. Do you want my mouth?”

“Yes,” Chris says, before he has the chance to chicken out or overanalyze. “Yes. Please.”

“Mm, so polite,” Zach teases. He kisses Chris again, his languid mouth a counterpoint to the hand that skims down Chris’s stomach and then flicks open his fly, jerks down his zipper. When Zach tucks his hand under the waistband of Chris’s briefs and then wraps his fingers around his half-hard cock, that’s familiar. The first time he engulfed Chris with his large palm and long fingers, it was a little jarring, so different from the smaller female hands he was used to. But now he pushes into Zach’s grip without shame or reservation. 

Zach seems like he’s in no hurry. He kisses Chris for long minutes and strokes him lazily, until Chris feels hot all over and desperate for more. He scratches his nails through the hair at the back of Zach’s head and then just clings to his shoulders, his hips coming off the bed as he tries in vain to get Zach to give him more. Luckily, Zach eventually takes pity on him. He breaks the kiss with a chuckle, then kisses down Chris’s neck, over his collarbone. He pauses to drag a tongue across one of Chris’s nipples, then swirl it around his belly button, and then he is sitting up so he can drag Chris’s pants and underwear down and off.

Even if Chris’s brain doesn’t always seem certain whether it’s okay with the sex with a man thing, his dick always is on board. He gets so hard for Zach every time, usually before he even touches him. And he is hard for him now. Zach is looking at him with both appreciation and approval when he crawls back up the bed, and Chris’s cock jerks in response.

Zach doesn’t touch him again right away. He drops a kiss on one of Chris’s hipbones, then the other one, then licks the crease of his thigh. Chris has to shut his eyes, because otherwise he might make a fool of himself by pleading or whining or something equally embarrassing. But then Zach stops the infuriating kissing and licking and smooths his hands up Chris’s thighs and just stops. Waits. Chris opens his eyes again.

“Good,” Zach says, smiling. The hint of praise in his tone makes Chris’s face heat up. “Keep your eyes open, Chris. I want you to look.”

He _should_ look, he knows. He should watch and remember that this is _Zach_ , and make sure that if he enjoys it, he’s enjoying it for what it is. But he’s afraid that actually seeing Zach’s lips wrapped around him is going to have this over way too quickly--either because it is finally going to be the time when he loses his nerve and his erection, or because he’s going to shoot down Zach’s throat in two seconds. It’s anyone’s guess which one of those outcomes is more likely.

Zach doesn’t give him much time to dwell though. He holds Chris’s gaze while he wraps his hand around his cock again, then lifts it to his mouth and laps at it once, just under the head, making Chris suck in a sharp breath and grasp at the sheets. Zach must be satisfied with that reaction, because Chris gets barely a glimpse of his smug smile before he is wrapping his lips around him, then sinking down, down, down until Chris can feel the flutter of the back of his throat. And then Zach just swallows and keeps going, until he can’t go any farther, until Chris is engulfed entirely in wet heat.

“Holy shit,” Chris stutters. He paws at Zach’s head with one hand, then carefully brushes hair off his forehead. “Zach, you don’t have to--”

Zach cuts him off by humming, and Chris is way too far gone to be annoyed by the self-satisfied look in his eyes. Zach pulls off and dives all the way back down again, once and then twice and then three times, and Chris has to call upon every single ounce of willpower he possesses to keep from fucking up into his throat or pushing his head down or both. One thing is for sure--he is in no danger of losing his erection. Even though looking down and seeing Zach’s lips stretched around him is bizarre, it’s not scary bizarre. At least not scary enough to make him want it to stop. He _never_ wants it to stop.

It’s going to be over too quickly at this rate though, so Chris is a little glad when Zach gives up on deep throating and wraps his hand around the base of Chris’s cock so he can use his mouth just on the first few inches. Not that it’s any less good that way. Zach’s grip on him is snug and sure, and he applies just the right amount of suction with his mouth, and he keeps flicking his tongue across Chris’s slit like he’s desperate to taste him. And the sounds he makes. He groans like Chris is a delicacy that he can’t get enough of. He hums in satisfaction when Chris’s fingers tighten in his hair. He pants when he pulls off enough to swirl his tongue around the head of Chris’s cock. That is the hottest thing--how much Zach seems to be enjoying this. How much he wants it. 

It fucking unbearable. Zach is like fire, and he makes Chris burn, makes him _want_ to burn. 

Zach’s eyes have closed at some point, but now he looks up at Chris again. His eyelashes are shiny with moisture and his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are pitch black under the shadow of the hair falling into his face. Chris is convinced that it is that picture, rather than the perfect mouth on his dick, that has him shooting before he even has a chance to warn Zach about it. Zach doesn’t so much as blink when the first spurt hits his tongue though. He swallows, laps it all up, tongue and throat working until Chris is completely spent and on his way toward oversensitivity. The last lap of Zach’s tongue makes him twitch and moan.

Zach swipes a forearm across his mouth before surging up the bed to kiss Chris, and Chris doesn’t even think to turn away or to be squeamish at the faint bitter taste he catches when Zach’s tongue slides into his mouth. He can hardly breathe, but who needs air when Zach is kissing him like this?

“God, Chris,” Zach says between kisses. Chris is dimly aware of the fact that he is jerking open his own fly. “You’re so fucking hot. I still can’t believe--”

He feeds a groan into Chris’s mouth and then kisses him hungrily. Chris can feel his knuckles brushing his stomach, and he thinks he should collect himself enough to reach down and take over, but he doesn’t get the chance. Just a few seconds later, Zach tenses, and Chris’s stomach muscles jump as his skin is painted with Zach’s come.

Zach tucks his face into Chris’s neck and pants, his breath humid against his skin. Chris traces the lines of his shoulderblades and let’s him ride it out, even though the cooling mess on his skin is making him feel a little squeamish. Getting up close and personal with another man’s spunk is still not his favorite thing. Zach cuddles are definitely one of his favorite things though, so he can’t bring himself to move, or make Zach move.

Eventually Zach does roll to the side though, and Chris glances down at his stomach and wrinkles his nose.

“Eww?” Zach asks, his voice amused.

“Eww,” Chris confirms. But his expression softens when he turns his head to look at Zach. He is flushed, and his forehead is damp with sweat, and his hair is a complete mess, but he’s still fucking gorgeous. Chris pulls him in for one more quick kiss. “Come on. Shower.”

Zach laughs and stretches, then swats at Chris’s thigh. “Okay, Princess. Let’s go.”

Chris tries really hard to scowl, but his smile just won’t go away.

\--------

That night, Chris stares at the ceiling and wonders when his bed started to feel too big.

It’s times like these that he needs Zach around to pull him out of his thoughts, because his mind won’t stop whirring and everything feels like too much. It’s too soon to wish that Zach could be beside him every night. He’s still scared of all the things that being with Zach entails--things ranging from dicks entering any of his orifices to the media shitstorm that will inevitably happen if they go public to the fact that this relationship necessitates redefining his whole identity. And yet he is just as scared about the prospect of a life where Zach will never sleep wrapped around him like an octopus, where they’ll never walk the dogs together or go to movies together, where he won’t get to see Zach’s blissed-out, post-climactic face ever again. Going forward seems scarily hard, but going back seems even harder.

Chris huffs and rolls onto his side, punches his pillow. He promised Skunk more walks. He still has to win that stupid dog over. He needs to take the next two weeks to focus just on how he feels about Zach and nothing else, like they agreed, and try to stop psyching himself out.

Just as he closes his eyes, his phone buzzes. He reaches out blindly and plucks it off the nightstand, then opens his eyes and squints at it.

It’s a text message from Zach. A stupid heart emoji. One little cutesy pink heart.

“Oh my God, you loser,” Chris says out loud, like his face isn’t burning and his throat isn’t closing up, like it’s not the best goddamn text he’s gotten in years. 

_You’re a dork_ , Chris texts back. It takes less than fifteen seconds for the screen to light up again.

_but i’m your dork_

Chris honestly could chuck his phone at the wall out of sheer emotional overwhelmment, but he restrains himself, his thumbs shaking a little as he types out his reply.

_Yeah._

And then a moment later, he adds:

_And I’m yours._

His phone doesn’t light up again after that, but he stares at it for five more minutes anyway, though he’s not sure what else he could possibly hope to hear. Finally, he forces himself to reach out and set his phone back down on the nightstand, and then he turns his body toward the empty half of the bed--the half Zach would be occupying if he were here. He reaches a hand out into the unoccupied space and curls his fingers against the mattress. And finally, with a smile on his face, he drifts off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected interaction with the outside world, followed by an important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued and immense thanks to JunoMagic for beta reading and for being incredibly supportive and a wonderful resource.

The remaining days before filming starts on Chris’s next project fly by. Even if he and Zach _weren’t_ keeping themselves quarantined, Chris wouldn’t have had much time to leave the apartment, between memorizing lines and working out and stressing about being prepared. The role is one he is excited about—a supporting part in a seriocomedy about a woman who quits her job on Wall Street and opens a bakery and cafe in Williamsburg. Chris is set to play her love interest, a temperamental writer who does his work from a corner booth. The plot is predictable—the main characters learn important lessons about life and love from each other, surrounded by a cast of quirky characters—but the writing is clever, and the role is challenging. His character is a bundle of neuroses and eccentricities, prickly on the outside and difficult to like at first. It’s the kind of role that could prove he is a “real” actor. He wants to nail it, to prove once and for all that he is more than just a pretty face.

Zach has been supportive from the beginning. Chris landed the part right before they went on the Trek press tour, and Zach was the third person he called—after his sister and his dad. He praised it as a good choice and a clever career move, and considering how meticulous Zach is about steering his own career, that was just the vote of confidence Chris needed. Now, Zach helps him run lines, quizzing him over dinner and first thing in the morning, when his brain is slow and tired. And he keeps him calm too, fielding every ridiculous question Chris has, from “What if I’m just supposed to be doing action movies after all?” to “What if I have no chemistry with the lead actress?” Chris is more excited than he is worried, but despite all his best efforts, he still has trouble turning off his brain most of the time. Sometimes he just needs a little reassurance. Zach doles it out generously.

And as if he doesn’t already do enough, he has been running most of Chris’s errands for him too. He is between projects right now—he intended to give himself a little break after Trek—but it’s obviously hard for him not to be busy. Even though Chris technically has enough time for grocery runs and Starbucks trips, Zach insists on going for him. It makes Chris feel like a diva, but he gets the feeling Zach won’t take no for an answer. Zach has been fidgety. Maybe getting him out of the apartment is good for both of them.

Two days before filming starts, Chris is reading through his lines for the ten millionth time when he is interrupted by a commotion in the hall. He throws his script down on the coffee table and frowns in the direction of the door, expecting Zach to walk in any second, his arms full of grocery bags. But then there is a thunk and a yelp and Zach’s muffled voice, speaking in low, apologetic tones. Chris jumps up in alarm. 

The scene outside his apartment is chaos. Two bags are lying on the floor, their contents half-spilled on the carpet but mostly intact. Noah’s leash is wrapped around Zach’s legs, who is teetering on the spot and struggling to maintain his grip on the remaining two bags in his arms. Skunk has managed to get free from Zach entirely. His leash is now clutched in the hand of Chris’s next door neighbor, a twenty-something aspiring actress named Melanie. Skunk is barking. Melanie looks terrified.

“Chris!” Zach says, relieved. “Sorry, I...the dogs...and then…”

Chris darts forward and grabs one of the bags out of Zach’s arms, then takes Skunk’s leash from Melanie, who shoots him a timid, grateful look. 

“Are you terrorizing my neighbors, Zach?” he says with a forced smile. Being charming is more Zach’s territory than his, but he can’t just shoo Zach and the dogs into his apartment and ignore the poor girl who got caught up in this mess.

“I think I terrorized him a little, actually,” Melanie squeaks, her face going red. “I’m sorry about that.”

Zach blushes a little himself. He is trying to step out of the circle of Noah’s leash, but Noah isn’t making it easy for him, pacing the floor from Melanie to Chris and back, looking for pets that are not forthcoming. Zach keeps getting more and more trapped, but Chris has no more hands with which to help him. And poor Melanie just looks like she wants to flee. Chris sympathizes, but he gives her a hopeful look anyway. 

“Oh!” She shakes herself and rushes forward to take the other shopping bag from Zach. 

Zach lets out a relieved breath and disentangles himself. “Thanks. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to—” 

“No, it’s okay, I startled you. I—”

“Hey, guys, let’s get this stuff inside, okay?” Chris says. His eyes dart up and down the hallway like he’s expecting paparazzi to jump out at any moment. One witness to Zach bringing groceries to his apartment is fine, but he’d like to keep the number from growing. He is already preoccupied with what Melanie might be thinking and whether she has put two and two together.

Chris lets her go ahead of him into the apartment, then leads her to the kitchen where they deposit the bags on the kitchen counter. She is giving Skunk a wide berth, keeping an eye on him like she expects him to attack her ankles at any moment.

“Not a fan of dogs, huh?” Chris asks. He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile and wraps Skunk’s leash a couple times around his hand, hoping that will put her more at ease.

“Umm,” she says, not quite looking at him. “I was chased down the street by a big dog when I was in elementary school. Never quite got over my fear after that, I guess.”

Chris studies her for a moment, biting the corner of his lip. She’s a pretty girl, in an unconventional way—tallish and willowy with light brown hair and a round, almost cherubic face. Though they have been neighbors for almost a month now, this is the first time they have spoken to each other beyond one brief introduction by the mail slots the week Chris moved in. As with all new people, Chris wonders if she knows who he is.

Before he has a chance to say anything else though, Zach finally enters the kitchen, huffing and disheveled. He sets the two remaining bags on the counter and then flicks his hair off his forehead and sighs. “God, that was a nightmare. Next time I’m making you come shopping with me.”

He reaches down to unclip Noah, but Chris puts out a hand to stop him and shakes his head. “Hey, no, uhh...Melanie’s not a big dog person.”

Zach raises his eyebrows, then cocks his head to the side. He looks a lot like a curious terrier himself, and Chris shoots Melanie an apologetic look for whatever is about to happen next. Sure enough, Zach grins and beckons her over. She hesitates, but Chris knows better than most that Zach’s steady gaze can work like a tractor beam, and after a second or two, Melanie’s feet are moving, taking her a few tentative steps closer.

“I’m Zach,” he says, holding out his hand for her to shake. “And this is Noah. And that’s Skunk. I promise you, they’re really well-trained.”

Chris bites his lip to keep from smiling. That’s so Zach. Not “They’re nice”. Not “They like people”. No. _They are well-trained._ Because Zach loves his dogs like they’re his children, but they are not exempt from the rule that everything in his life is a reflection on him. Having a poorly behaved dog would be worse than having an asshole dog.

“Oh, I believe you,” Melanie says, even though she doesn’t _look_ like she believes it. But she is letting Noah sniff her knees without running away, so that’s something. 

“They’re also just visiting,” Zach adds. He runs a hand over Noah’s head, then scratches behind one of his ears. “I promise we won’t be startling you in the hallway all the time.”

“You mean you two aren’t—” She cuts herself off and flushes scarlet. Chris can feel her pain. The blood is rushing to his face too.

“No, I’m just a friend,” Zach says. He meets Chris’s eyes for a moment, then looks away. Chris sees no hint of blame there, but that doesn’t keep him from feeling guilty. And then he thinks back to a moment ago, when he was noticing Melanie’s pretty dimples, and suddenly the only thing he can think about is getting her out of his apartment.

But what he is thinking doesn’t translate into what ends up coming out of his mouth. “Liar,” he says, a little too loudly. And that is...awkward. Two pairs of eyes snap to him at once, and Zach’s eyebrows are raised in obvious shock. Chris has no idea what the hell he’s doing. “Come on, Zach. This is the third time you’ve had the dogs over here in three weeks. Don’t get her hopes up.”

Zach, bless him, barely skips a beat. An apologetic smile slides onto his face, and he turns his gaze back to Melanie. “Okay, so, maybe there’s a good chance you’ll run into me and my pups again. But you won’t tell the super on us, will you?”

His smile has to be about ten million watts. People tell Chris that he has a nice smile, but most days he thinks he has nothing on Zach when he really turns it on. Maybe it’s because his smiles are more rare. Maybe it’s because of the way they transform his usually serious and intense face into something almost unrecognizably adorable. Whatever the case, Melanie looks won over. She smiles and shakes her head, then catches Chris’s eye.

“Does he use that smile on you?” she asks.

“All the time,” Chris replies without skipping a beat. “All the goddamn time. It’s _rude_ is what it is.”

Melanie laughs, then crosses her arms over her chest and looks back down at the dogs. “Alright. I won’t tell about the dogs. Or...umm. Or anything else, by the way.” Her eyes dart between them, and her cheeks color a little bit again. So she _does_ know who they are. Anxiety flares in Chris’s chest, but he pastes a smile onto his face to hide it.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Yeah, thanks,” Zach echoes. “And I’ll bet the dogs will grow on you. Just you wait.”

“We’ll see,” Melanie says dubiously.

“Trust me. They’re hard to resist. Actually, Noah does some tricks. Want to see?”

\--------

After Noah’s moving performance of Bang! and after Melanie leaves and the groceries are put away, Chris finds himself backed up against the kitchen sink, Zach’s mouth on his neck.

“Why’d you tell her?” Zach asks, his lips moving against Chris’s skin. 

“I...I don’t…” It’s hard to explain—harder when Zach is licking over the sensitive skin behind his ear. “I don’t want to get in the habit of lying.”

Zach pulls back, a little wrinkle of confusion between his eyebrows. “But aren’t we—”

“No, I...it’s one thing to...to hide it, for now. To have some breathing room. But...” Chris licks his lips and looks away. “If I get comfortable lying about it then...then it’ll be _comfortable_. How can I be honest with myself about what this is if I’m lying to everyone else about it?”

The truth is, having someone else step into their private world for a minute freaked him out—not necessarily because of the little loss of privacy, but because he realized how easy it would be to relegate what he has with Zach to some separate compartment of himself. He doesn’t want to be a fragmented person. He doesn’t want there to be Chris Who Likes Zach and Chris Who Likes Girls, Public Chris and Private Chris. He isn’t ready to walk down the street hand in hand with Zach or shout his feelings from the rooftops, but it’s the little interactions that will make or break this. 

“It wouldn’t bother me if you needed to lie about it for a little while,” Zach says. He won’t quite look Chris in the eye though, so Chris mentally translates: It _would_ bother him, but not enough for it to be a deal breaker. 

“I don’t want to,” he says firmly. “Maybe by omission, sure—I’m not going to hire a skywriter or anything—but this is...this is real, right?”

“Of course it is,” Zach says, framing Chris’s face with his hands. He kisses his cheek, then his mouth. “Of course it is.”

“Then I’m not going to pretend like it isn’t.”

Zach breathes out slow. “And if the wrong person asks you about it? A producer? A journalist?”

“I can tell them I’m seeing someone. I don’t have to tell them who.”

“And if they put two and two together?”

“Then…” Chris sighs and runs a hand over his face. He didn’t think this far ahead, but he’s not going to change his mind about this. “Then okay. Then we’ll deal with it.”

Zach loops his arms around Chris’s neck and shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Chris chuckles, then ducks his head to avoid Zach’s admiring gaze. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that. “This is not me being brave. I’m still freaking out, trust me. I just...it felt wrong, to hear you tell someone you’re just my friend. You’ve _never_ been just my friend.”

“Yeah,” Zach agrees, his voice soft. “Yeah, it seems like too small a word, doesn’t it?”

Chris can only nod, then tug Zach in close again so he can bury his face in his neck. Zach’s arms feel strong and reassuring, and he wouldn’t trade this for a hundred pretty, dimpled neighbor girls. 

As if reading his mind, Zach says, “Are you sure you just didn’t feel guilty for lying about us in front of a pretty girl?”

He pushes his forehead into Zach’s shoulder for a moment, then pulls back so he can look at him. “ _No_ ,” he says vehemently, a little petulantly. Zach’s eyes are dancing though. He obviously already knows that wasn’t the case. So Chris lets himself relax a little and shrugs one shoulder. “Besides, she doesn’t like dogs. It would never work out.”

Zach throws his head back and laughs, and Chris watches him with a smile on his face. He has always loved being able to make Zach laugh, but it feels even better now, because he’s making him _happy_ too. 

“Come on,” Zach says, taking Chris’s hand and tugging him toward the bedroom. “I’ve been thinking about getting my mouth on you all morning.”

\--------

Later, when they are curled up in bed, spent and sated, Zach kills the mood.

“So, we need to talk, don’t we?” he says out of the blue. As if it’s a good idea to use those words in that order without some kind of explanation. As if he didn’t just make Chris’s heart leap into his throat—not a pleasant sensation to have when he is still coming down from another mind-blowing orgasm courtesy of Zach’s talented tongue.

“Uhh. We do?”

“Yeah.” Zach is curled up against Chris’s side with his head on his chest, but after a beat he props himself up and raises his eyebrows. “Two weeks, we said. You start filming in a couple days.”

As scary as it was to hear the dreaded “We need to talk”, this is worse. Chris is hit with the sudden realization that, in all his preparation for the movie, he forgot that he should have been using this time to think about how things are going with Zach and where they should be going in the future. God, he’s been such an _asshole_. 

“Shit,” he whispers, then looks away. “I didn’t...I don’t…”

“Chris.” Zach’s voice is gentle, and it pulls Chris’s gaze back to his face. “I think you’re making this harder than it is.”

“What?” Chris says, furrowing his brow.

Zach smiles and threads his fingers into Chris’s hair, scratching along his scalp. “I’m not looking for a marriage proposal here. I kind of figured that you’d be too wrapped up in thinking about this movie for you to think much about us anyway, and that’s probably a _good_ thing. You know how you get when you start to over-analyze things. Just...just think back on the past couple weeks. The past month even. Does it make you uncomfortable at all?”

Chris doesn’t really have to think about it. He knows the answer right away. “No,” he says. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Not even a little bit?” Zach presses.

“Not...I mean, you know the things that still bother me. I’m still not sure I can talk to people about it yet—not until I...at least until I know what to label myself. And I’m still worried about...you know. Butt stuff.” He pauses for Zach’s laughter like the good sport he is. “But I’m not uncomfortable. Being with you is...it’s easy.”

Zach’s smile grows even wider, and he looks down for a moment, like he’s feeling bashful. Chris takes in the perfect curve of his mouth and the way his eyelashes fan across his cheek and feels an intense surge of affection. He puts a hand on Zach’s arm and squeezes, until Zach looks at him again.

“It’s easy for me too,” Zach admits finally. “Too easy. I just want to be sure that I shouldn’t....still be waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?”

“There was never going to be another shoe, Zach,” Chris says. He runs his hand up to Zach’s shoulder, then to the back of his neck, where his fingers toy idly with his hair. “I tried to tell you, this isn’t an experiment for me. I’m all in. I still have stuff to figure out, but whether or not I want to be with you isn’t one of those things.”

“So, if I wanted to, say, call my mom?” Zach asks tentatively.

Chris chuckles. “You call her right up. Tell her we’re going steady.”

Zach peers at him like he can’t quite believe he’s real right now. “I just don’t know why you seem so calm, if you’ve still got question marks in your head.”

“It’s like…” Chris sighs and looks up at the ceiling, his fingers still stroking Zach’s neck. It’s hard to explain what’s going on inside his head when all his feelings seems to change so much from one second to the next. Anxiety to bliss to confusion to arousal. One thing is certain: he has felt more deeply in the past month than he had for years prior. “You remember how you felt the first time you ever kissed someone? When you had no idea what you were doing and you were too preoccupied with doing it right to even know whether you liked it or not?”

“Mmm,” Zach hums. “I mean, the first person I kissed was a girl, and I knew pretty much right away that it wasn’t right, but I get what you’re saying.”

Chris nods and tries hard not to mentally kick himself for failing to recognize the inherent difference between them yet again. Zach knew he was gay when he was just a kid. Chris doesn’t even know _what_ he is. Bi? Mostly straight with one exception? He has no clue, and that’s unsettling. “It’s like that. It’s like a bunch of firsts all over again. I have to relearn...what I like. What I want. What I’m comfortable with. It’s just a matter of assimilating all of this into the person I am now. Until it all clicks, I just feel a little bit shaky.”

“I understand,” Zach says, and when Chris looks at him, he really does look like he gets it. For what seems like the hundredth time in the past few weeks, Chris is struck by how lucky he is. This would be so much harder if Zach was impatient or couldn’t empathize or thought he was making too big a deal out of his identity crisis. “You’re sure about your feelings about me, but you’re not sure what that means for _you_.”

“Yeah. I guess. Sort of.” Chris squirms a little, lets his hand fall back to the bed. “Is that dumb? Maybe it shouldn’t matter.”

Zach shakes his head and strokes a thumb across Chris’s cheekbone. “Your identity matters, Chris. And there’s a lot of bullshit that society feeds us about sexuality. I could tell you that it doesn’t matter and that you’re still you no matter who you’re sleeping with or who you have feelings for, but it’s ultimately up to you to be comfortable with yourself.”

He drops his head back to Chris’s chest, and Chris wraps his arms around him and lets his fingertips drift across his shoulder blades. There are a lot of things that make him feel off-balance, but this isn’t one of them. Somehow, holding Zach in his arms feels like the most natural thing in the world, like all his joints were molded to fit Zach’s angles. If this was all they ever had to do, things would be much less complicated.

“Thank you,” Chris says, though it feels like such a small gesture. “Thanks for...for getting it.”

Zach rubs his nose over Chris’s collarbone, then tilts his head up to kiss the point of his chin. “I went through the identity crisis thing too, you know? I remember what it was like. It’s hard, and it’s an ongoing process, and I would never blame you for it.”

“But a lot of people would.” Chris squeezes Zach tighter. “You’re still pretty special.”

A quiet huff of a laugh is Zach’s reply, followed by fingers ghosting down Chris’s chest, then over his stomach. “Maybe I’m just holding out for butt stuff.”

Unease zings up Chris’s spine. He is lying in a tangle of Zach’s naked limbs and minutes ago was thrusting into his mouth, but the thought of being vulnerable enough to take that extra step still gets his heart pounding. Sexual compatibility is tough to get right under the best of circumstances, and Chris can’t even imagine how much trickier it’s going to be to figure out those dynamics with another man, much less someone who has been his friend for so many years. Everything they have done so far has felt safe. There is a certain emotional distance in trading handjobs or letting Zach suck him off. It will be entirely different to open himself up to a whole new world of sexual experience with someone who means so much to him.

It doesn’t help that this version of Zach is so different. Chris has heard the rumors—and even some hints from Zach’s own mouth—about what he’s like in bed. And now that they are together, he has seen glimmers of what burns under Zach’s control. He has seen Zach look at him like he wants to devour him but is just barely holding back. He can sense the intensity that’s waiting to be unleashed. Zach has been his friend for long enough that Chris thought he had seen all of his layers. It’s hard to believe that there is more to uncover. What if Chris doesn’t like it? What if it’s too intimidating? 

Or what if Zach doesn’t like what Chris brings to the table? He has no idea what Zach’s expectations are based on what he has heard about Chris’s relationships with women, either from the media or from Chris himself, but he does know that the reality is going to be different. Chris isn’t the guy with the huge ego that requires stroking, like that stupid “Baby, I don’t have three hands” interview made him out to be. He isn’t aggressively toppy and a connoisseur of anal sex like the infuriating Munn Incident might have led people to believe. And it’s entirely possible—even likely—that he will be different with Zach than he is with anyone else. It’s difficult to deal with that many unknowns. Maybe some people would be excited by the opportunity to explore uncharted sexual territory, but inexperience makes Chris uneasy. He likes to know what’s coming. 

Zach almost certainly didn’t mean for an innocent joke to set Chris’s mind churning though, so Chris forces himself to smile, even though he wants to grimace. No matter how scared he is, it’s a bridge they will have to cross eventually. He’s just still trying to work up to it.

“I think that’s going to take a little more patience on your part,” Chris says.

As usual, Zach surprises him. He hums happily—like that answer is satisfying—and then nuzzles into Chris’s neck. “I’ll astound you with my powers of patience. Just you watch.” When Chris laughs, he adds, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’ll convince you that you want it eventually.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris lifts an eyebrow, even though Zach can’t see him.

“Yeah.” Zach runs his fingers across Chris’s thigh, making him shiver and his cock twitch, even though he is somewhat recently spent. “Someday I’ll get you begging for it.”

Despite the flare of fear in his gut, Chris has a feeling Zach is right. While it’s hard to imagine not being freaked out by the thought, it’s even harder to imagine that Zach couldn’t get him to do just about anything. He can play Chris like a fiddle. If he ever takes advantage of that, Chris is a gonner.

“Someday,” Chris agrees quietly. He tilts his head down just as Zach tilts his up, so their lips meet.

“Someday,” Zach echoes, then kisses Chris again.

It sounds a lot like “soon”.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has a crisis. Zach helps pull him out of it.

The first few days of filming are every bit as energizing and satisfying as Chris hoped they would be. His costar is the tiny and talented Ellen Page, and Chris takes a shine to her immediately. She has just the right blend of professional and playful, and she’s so witty that it’s all Chris can do to keep up with her. But he _loves_ that. While some people are more comfortable when things are easy, Chris needs that sense of challenge to be motivated. He may be older than her and may have been doing this longer, but it’s apparent from day one that he can learn from her. That is what makes him look forward to going to work every morning. 

He didn’t need to be worried about chemistry either. Ellen has a dry, intelligent sense of humor that has Chris making involuntary heart eyes at her from minute one. He is such a sucker for a quick wit—as evidenced by his immediate chemistry with Zach—and she is so charming that he can’t blame her for making him giggle like an idiot between takes. Working with her is comfortable. It doesn’t take long at all for Chris to realize that this is going to be easily one of his favorite projects by the time they are through.

Things are perfect until the start of the second week, when the time comes to film the first scene where they interact extensively. Ellen is the lead, and up until now they have been doing scenes that are heavy on her and light on Chris, but now it is time to start digging into their relationship. This scene is not a sexy one though. It’s a twist on one of the typical meet-cute tropes, where Ellen’s character is going to spill coffee in his lap. Except there is no “cute” in it. Chris’s character is to take it about as well as you’d expect a neurotic writer who is lacking social skills to take it—with a whole lot of rudeness and absolutely zero charm.

They are laughing and cutting up before the cameras start rolling, but once the director calls action, Ellen slides effortlessly into character. Chris composes himself too, turning to the laptop screen where he is supposed to be pretending to do his writing. To an outside observer, they nail it on the first take. Ellen trips and dumps the cup of (thankfully not scalding) coffee into his lap. Chris pushes back from the table and delivers his outraged lines. Ellen grabs the towel off her shoulder and starts awkwardly pawing at his crotch with it. 

Her stammering and his kvetching continue through a minute or two of vigorous rubbing. It’s the kind of thing Chris would find more awkward if he didn’t have the ability to stop taking himself seriously the moment the cameras start rolling. If he could get bare-ass naked and act like a crazy person for Stretch, if he could rip his shirt open on a waterfall for Into the Woods, then he can deal with having a woman’s hand a little too close to his junk for a couple minutes. Plus, every actor has dealt with a few awkward boners in their life. It comes with the territory.

So any other time, it wouldn’t alarm him that his dick is starting to fill out from having Ellen’s cleavage in his face and hand in his lap. Any other time, he wouldn’t have trouble staying professional. But this isn’t any other time. This is a time when the only person who has touched him in over a month is another man. This is a time when Chris is struggling with defining his sexuality, and getting hard right now seems more like evidence than a normal biological function. 

He can feel himself starting to panic, which actually works well for the scene, but he’s still relieved when the director calls cut a few moments later. As soon as Ellen straightens up, smiling, he springs to his feet, tugging his wet pants away from his crotch and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellen says, moving in close and knocking him with her elbow. “I wasn’t scrubbing too hard was I?”

“No, no” Chris says in a rush. “No, you were fine. Sorry. I just...sorry.”

As soon as he is dismissed to get cleaned up by wardrobe, Chris rushes away, first in the direction of his own trailer. He needs to get his head on straight before submitting himself to the poking and prodding of the talented and well-meaning ladies of the wardrobe department. He needs to will down his hard-on before they start stuffing him into a dry pair of too-tight pants.

The chafing of wet fabric definitely helps with the hard-on problem, but it doesn’t help the problem in his head. Once inside his trailer, he leans back against the door and closes his eyes and tries to summon Zach’s face. It works. He can see it all clearly—the darkly desirous way Zach looks at him, the appealing and kissable curve of his mouth, the perpetual five o’clock shadow that Chris has come to love running his fingers against. Chris’s heart still flutters, his stomach still flips. His feelings are still right there, easily accessible and filling up his chest the moment he lets them. But that doesn’t ease his worry. He can call up the image of Ellen from a moment ago too. Maybe it’s because it’s fresh in his mind, but maybe it’s more than that.

Chris doesn’t know how this is supposed to work. He had been assuming that being with Zach would mean that he wouldn’t be attracted to women anymore. It’s jarring and scary to realize that things don’t seem to be working that way. What if he ends up _missing_ being with a woman? Or what if this thing with Zach is a weird phase, and one day the switch flips the other direction again? What if the switch is already flipped, and when he gets home to Zach that night he finds he isn’t attracted to him anymore?

The room starts to spin, and Chris has to sit down on the couch and put his head in his hands, sucking in great gulps of air in an attempt to calm himself. The last thing he wants is to hurt Zach. He would never be able to forgive himself for that. After all, he talked Zach into this. He made him believe that this wasn’t just some experiment for him. Was that a lie?

It’s tempting to pull out his cell phone and call Zach just to hear his voice, but right now there’s a good chance that will freak him out even more. Instead, Chris keeps breathing until the room stops moving around him. He’s an actor. He might not feel like he’s equipped to face the rest of the day, but he can _act_ like he is. 

With one final deep breath, he gets to his feet again and heads for the door. There are no mental health days in the movie business. No one is going to hold his hand. He has to make it work.

————

It’s nearing 10 p.m. when Chris leaves set. Under normal circumstances he would be tempted to go home and crash and ask Zach to drop by in the morning, but that’s not going to cut it tonight. His heart is still in his throat, and he feels like his thoughts are in a blender. Zach is the only one that can quiet them. At least, he hopes Zach can quiet them. 

He has a key to Zach’s place, but somehow it didn’t seem like a big deal until now. Zach gave it to him a couple weeks ago with an offhand comment about how it would be more convenient with Chris’s filming schedule if he could just come over whenever. Chris agreed and pocketed it and kissed him, and that was all the fanfare needed. But now, as he is sticking the key into the lock, he realizes how significant it is. He is about to enter Zach’s private space without a formal invitation. Even though there are already so few boundaries between them, this moment feels particularly intimate. The revelation does little to soothe him.

Chris finds Zach in the bedroom. He stops in the doorway, all of his stored-up confessions dying on his tongue when he sees the peaceful scene in front of him. The clock on the bedside table reads 10:25, but Zach is passed out—still sitting up in bed, his head tipped back against the headboard, a script draped across his lap. He looks softer in sleep, his intense features smoothed into something peaceful, almost vulnerable. Chris is overwhelmed at the sight of him. 

With his heart is his throat, he toes off his shoes, and then climbs onto the bed. Zach doesn’t stir when the bed dips, or when Chris crawls up his body to toss the script aside. Only when Chris reaches out to pluck the glasses off his face does he show signs of waking. His eyelashes flutter, and he makes a soft sound of recognition.

“Mm, Chris?” he says. He opens his eyes and peers blearily at Chris. The corner of his mouth curves upward. It’s barely a smile, but it still melts Chris’s heart.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he rumbles. 

“How was your day?” Zach’s hand sneaks up under the back of Chris’s shirt. His palm finds the center of his back and settles there, a warm and comforting weight. And just that—just Zach touching him—is all it takes. Relief floods through Chris’s entire body, and he lets his head tip forward to rest against Zach’s, his eyes falling shut. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he whispers. “I just want…” He trails off and lifts his fingers, running them across Zach’s bottom lip.

But Zach is waking up a little more now, and it’s clear that he senses something is wrong. He shifts and brings his other hand up to push at Chris’s chest. “Is everything okay?”

Chris forces himself to open his eyes again. He doesn’t know if Zach will believe him, but he tries anyway. “It is now.”

Zach searches his face for a moment. “Are _we_ okay?”

“Yes,” Chris says without hesitation. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

He can see the wheels turning in Zach’s head while he tries to figure out if he can believe Chris or not, or if it is worth pushing right this second. Chris lets him look, knowing there is probably turmoil in his eyes but hoping Zach can see his affection and desire most clearly. He can tell Zach all about how stupid he was later, but right now it seems unimportant.

“Okay,” Zach says at last. “Then kiss me.”

Chris does. He tips his chin up and presses his mouth to Zach’s gently at first, like he’s experimenting. But then Zach parts his lips and sighs and reaches up to cup the back of Chris’s head, and Chris feels that fire spark in his chest again. That, too, is a relief. It doesn’t prove that there’s nothing wrong with him, but at least it reminds him that his feelings for Zach are real, and they are not fading away. If anything, they are only getting stronger. 

“What do you want?” Zach asks him when they break apart for a moment. Chris almost grimaces. Zach asks him that question so often, and he gets why that is, but tonight he doesn’t feel like being in charge of what happens. It should be Zach’s turn to get what _he_ wants, and for Chris to give it to him. 

“I want you in my mouth, Zach,” he says, and kisses him hard before he can argue. Zach groans into his mouth and grabs his ass, slotting their hips together so he can grind up against him. Chris’s stomach flips at the sudden physical reminder of how big Zach is, but he isn’t going to back out now. He needs this tonight. He needs the reminder that this is what he wants.

“Are you sure?” Zach says when Chris pulls away. There is something about the desperate yet sleep-softened way he’s looking at him that makes Chris want to hunt down anyone and everyone who ever hurt him and flay them alive. It’s scary to think maybe Zach deserves more than this—more than Chris’s fumbling and vacillating and trying to figure out what’s going on in his own head. Chris can imagine how good things will be once they break through to the other side of this mess, but right now he just feels guilty. He wants to be sure, for Zach. He wants to be sure about this and about what comes next and about everything, every day, for the rest of his life.

As if reading Chris’s mind, Zach lifts one hand to cup his face, his thumb skating across his cheekbone. “Hey. You don’t have to. Let’s just go to bed, okay?” 

Chris closes his eyes and nuzzles into the touch. This part is simple. The way he feels when Zach touches him—and the way he felt when he was standing in the doorway, looking at Zach and wondering how anyone could be so beautiful—those things are real. He needs to anchor himself on those feelings and let them keep him from floating away again.

He opens his eyes again and looks at Zach, then turns his head and places a kiss in the middle of Zach’s palm. “I want to,” he says honestly. He curls his fingers around Zach’s wrist and drags his hand down so he can kiss the pads of his fingers. With his head turned away, he can’t see Zach’s expression, but he can hear his gasp. “Tell me what to do.”

Zach’s gaze turns predatory in a way that Chris has only seen tiny glimpses of so far. “Get your clothes off,” he murmurs. “Want to see all of you.”

Chris sits back and drags his shirt up and over his head, then watches as Zach does the same. He has to roll to the side so they can both get their pants off, but the moment they’re done, Zach drags him back into his lap and kisses him.

“You can change your mind at any time,” he whispers against Chris’s lips. The words spark a stubborn impulse in Chris though. He kisses Zach one more time and lets that be his answer. 

As tempting as it is to go straight for the goods before he loses his nerve, Chris forces himself to move slowly down Zach’s body, kissing the coarse thatch of chest hair that he’s still trying to get used to, mouthing at this skin of his stomach until the muscles twitch, tonguing the line of his happy trail. By the time he makes it to the juncture of Zach’s thighs, they are both breathing heavily in anticipation, and Chris has to pause and press his forehead to Zach’s hip and calm himself for a moment.

“Take your time,” Zach says, sifting his fingers through Chris’s hair. “Here, give me your hand.”

Zach takes him by the wrist, guides his hand to his cock, and encourages him to wrap his fingers around it. Chris breathes out slow against Zach’s skin and then turns his head to the side so he can watch himself stroke Zach once, twice, as carefully as if it were the first time. 

“That’s good.” Zach’s voice is strained but steady. “Just touch me for a while. There’s no rush.”

Chris pushes himself up on one elbow and tightens his grip on Zach, just the way he knows he likes it. He jacks him slowly, not wanting to move things too far along before he’s ready to start using his mouth. When he looks up, he sees Zach’s head tipped back against the headboard, his lips parted, his eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. He still has one hand in Chris’s hair, and his nails are scratching lazily at his scalp. It probably is taking quite a bit of self-control for him to not nudge Chris’s head where he wants it to go. Chris is grateful, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of Zach’s patience.

“Should I…” he starts, then trails off when he realizes it would be a stupid question. He shouldn’t need instructions. He has received enough blowjobs in his life that he knows the basic mechanics of it, and it isn’t rocket science anyway. It’s just very important to him that this be good for Zach. 

Luckily, Zach seems to know what he needs. He always seems to know what Chris needs. “You can taste,” he says. “Just a little. Use just your tongue for now.”

Being instructed takes some of the control out of Chris’s hands, and that makes him braver. He takes a deep, quiet breath, and leans in to tongue just under the head of Zach’s cock, figuring that’s safe territory. When Zach sucks in a sharp breath, he gets braver still. He sweeps his tongue up over the velvety crown, gathering up the little bead of fluid leaking from the tip. It’s a little bitter, a little salty, but not unpleasant. It’s not scary. It’s just Zach. Chris goes back in for more.

“God, yeah,” Zach breathes. “That’s good.”

His fingers are tightening in Chris’s hair now, but Chris finds that he doesn’t mind. He pushes Zach’s dick up to lie flat against his belly and gives him a long, slow lick from balls to crown, then does it again, taking his time with it, mapping the veins, the soft texture and subtle taste of his skin. 

“Okay, you tease,” Zach chuckles. Chris can feel his thigh muscles clenching, probably with the effort of keeping his hips on the bed. “Come on, I need your mouth now. Wrap those pretty lips around me.”

It’s still strange to hear Zach talk to him like that, but it’s also hot as fuck. He isn’t used to being objectified much in bed. Some of the women he has slept were into dirty talk, but it was usually the run-of-the-mill “put that big dick in me” and “fuck me harder” and “yeah, you like that?” Zach talks to him like he is sexy but also precious. Everything he says has weight behind it. “Pretty lips” sounds like a term of endearment, and “need your mouth” sounds like “need _you_.”

Chris doesn’t want to make him wait for it anymore, so he goes in with a little too much enthusiasm, lowering his mouth and taking Zach in until his throat flutters.

“Hey, easy,” Zach says. His hand falls to Chris’s shoulder, like maybe because he doesn’t trust himself to have it on the back of his head anymore, and he pushes a little, getting Chris to ease off. “Don’t rush it.”

But Chris _is_ in a rush. They have already wasted so much time. He could have been doing this weeks ago. Hell, he could have been doing it years ago, if he had been less of an idiot. They have all the time in the world now, though. He reminds himself of that and slows down, easing Zach into his mouth inch by inch this time, until his lips meet his hand. Then, when Zach’s hips twitch, he starts to move.

It’s difficult, at first, getting his head and his hand and his tongue to all move with something resembling coordination. And of course, he starts to overthink it. Are his teeth out of the way enough? Does this tongue thing feel good? What about _this_ tongue thing? Should he grip tighter with his hand, or suck harder with his mouth? He is trying to keep track of so many things that he gets pulled out of the moment. His erection flags, the blood rushes to his face, and he has to look up at Zach for guidance.

But Zach is gazing at him like he’s made of gold. The moment he meets Chris’s eyes, he brings his hand up to cup the side of his face, sweeping his thumb across Chris’s cheekbone and then placing it on the hollow of his cheek, like he’s trying to prove to himself that this is happening. His lips are parted in wonderment. Chris thinks he can feel him trembling.

“God, Christopher.” Zach’s mouth forms every single syllable in Chris’s name with reverence, and Chris has to close his eyes for a moment to curb the swell of emotion in his chest. “Fuck, don’t stop. It feels good. You can...you can suck a little harder, if you want.”

It’s like Zach reached into his head and turned off the faucet that was pouring out self-doubt, and now Chris can just feel. He can concentrate on the way Zach’s dick jerks when he moans, the way his fingers twitch against the back of Chris’s neck when he manages to match the rhythm of his hand to the rhythm of his mouth. He tongues Zach and strokes him and lets saliva dribble from the corners of his mouth to slick the way. It’s filthy and it’s foreign and he can only imagine how he looks with his mouth crammed full and his brow lined with concentration—but it’s _good_. 

“Chris,” Zach gasps, his fingers biting into Chris’s neck for a moment. “I’m gonna come. Do you want to—?”

Anticipation floods Chris’s entire body, but he manages to shake his head. In for a penny, in for a pound. He won’t pull off at the last minute. It would feel unfinished.

The first pulse is shocking when it hits the roof of his mouth. He swallows reflexively, but the taste barely registers on his tongue. His senses are too full of Zach’s shocked _ahhh_ and the bruising grip on the back of his neck. He sucks and swallows and chases the taste with his tongue until Zach curses and gets a hold on his bicep to drag him up for a kiss. He bites at Chris’s bottom lip and then pushes his tongue into his mouth, clearly unashamed to taste himself.

It isn’t until Zach’s fingers grip his ass and pull him in that Chris realizes he’s hard again. He slides himself along the crease of Zach’s thigh, and Zach urges him on. Chris plants on knee on the bed and rocks against Zach’s skin and tries his best to keep kissing him clumsily. Zach’s fingers flutter down to the backs of his thighs, then back over the curve of his ass, where he squeezes until Chris shudders. Then, one finger searches between his cheeks and finds his hole, circling and petting.

 _“Fuck,”_ Chris hisses. His orgasm hits him all at once. He drops his head to Zach’s shoulder and muffles his curses against his skin while he spills his release onto his stomach. Zach’s hands move up to his back, rubbing up and down like he’s trying to calm or comfort him, and when Chris is spent, he just clutches him close.

Eventually, they have to move. Chris shifts to the side and Zach goes to the bathroom to get cleaned up. When he slides back in next to Chris under the covers, there is apprehension in his eyes. The sex fog clears out of Chris’s brain in an instant, and he tenses up, knowing what’s coming.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened today?” Zach asks.

Chris lets out a weary sigh. He doesn’t want to explain, because he is worried it will make him panic again in spite of all that just happened. But he promised Zach he would talk about the things that worry him, and he knows that bottling this up will only make things worse. So he launches into the explanation, sparing no details. He tells Zach about filming the scene, about getting hard from it. He tells him about the embarrassing amount of time he spent agonizing over whether he would still feel the same about Zach when he next saw him.

“And I do feel the same,” he says with conviction, finding one of Zach’s hands and giving it a squeeze. “I still care about you. I still want you. That was...what we just did was…”

Zach props himself up on his elbow and shakes his head. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always,” Chris says, even though he is immediately flooded with fear.

“This...hasn’t been easy for me either, you know.” Chris watches as Zach swallows hard, and his heart clenches. He reaches out and lays his palm on Zach’s chest, over his heart. Zach smiles before continuing, “I’m so used to seeing you with, you know, beautiful, leggy women. I still look at you sometimes and wish you were mine, before I remember that you _are_.”

“I am,” Chris whispers.

Zach smiles wider. “And that’s the thing. You say things like that. You do things like this.” He puts his hand over Chris’s where it’s resting on his chest. “When you look at me or touch me, I have no doubts about how you feel. I think your problem is that you’re spending so much time trying to figure out how you _should_ feel that it’s making you ignore how you actually _do_ feel.”

Chris lets out a shaky breath. That makes a lot of sense. He already knows that he has a problem with just being in the moment and accepting what his gut and his heart are telling him. It’s just not easy to get past that.

“I don’t think it would have been possible to fake that blowjob, Chris,” Zach continues. He reaches out to trace Chris’s lips with his thumb. “And...I also don’t think there was anything wrong with having an involuntary reaction to a woman practically groping you. When you were with people in the past, you didn’t stop noticing other women, did you?”

Chris shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, same concept, I think. It’s not like you can just turn it on and off. And who knows? You might even notice another man at some point. And that’s fine too. As long as noticing is all it is and you still want to be with me.”

“I do want to be with you.” Chris knows that. He knows it now more than ever. “I just...you’re right. I just need to stop trying to figure out what I’m supposed to feel.”

Zach nods, then leans in and kisses Chris on the forehead. “I know it’s not that simple, but in the meantime, we’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“I just don’t understand how you’re so chill about all this,” Chris says in a huff.

Zach pulls back a bit again and chuckles. “Well, for one, Ellen isn’t into dick, so I know _she’s_ not going to take you away from me.” Chris whacks him playfully in the chest. “I don’t know, Chris. I’ve just already done my share of sabotaging relationship because I was scared of losing people. I’m done with that. I trust you, and I’m trying to trust in us. And if I need to trust in us enough for the both of us until you catch up, I can do that.”

Chris grimaces. “That...seems really unfair.”

“Not when I think it’s pretty clear you already _do_ trust in us. You just forget that sometimes. You’re the one who asked me out in the first place. You’re the one who insisted you don’t want to lie about it.”

Chris flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands across his face while he lets Zach’s words sink in. He thinks back to how he felt when filming for Trek 3 ended and he had been overwhelmed at the idea of losing Zach. He thinks about how natural it feels when they’re together, and how all the speedbumps they’ve had so far have been due to his own second-guessing. And he thinks—strangely enough—about Zach’s probing finger, that little hint of the physical steps still to come, and the fact that all of this has been so much easier with Zach than it should have been. He can still taste Zach faintly on his tongue, and he is far from unsettled by it. It’s comforting. It’s a reminder of the connection between them and how real it is. His freak out on set seems crazy in hindsight. How could he have thought for one second that he wouldn’t want Zach anymore?

He drops his hands and turns his head to look at Zach, who is still watching him steadily. “I’m a mess,” he sighs.

“You’re not as bad as you think, trust me.” Zach leans in and nips playfully at his shoulder. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to be better than okay.”

Zach’s certainty is contagious, and Chris can’t help but smile. “You sure that’s not just your happy post-blowjob brain talking?”

“Could be,” Zach says with a half-shrug. “But in that case, we’ll just have to have more blowjobs.”

Chris pretends to think about it, but he can’t hide his smile. “I think that can be arranged.”

Zach is laughing when he kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juno gave me the idea to use Ellen Page as Chris's costar, which worked perfectly, and I now have yet another reason to be so thankful to her. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Chris's turn to support Zach. In the process, he has a breakthrough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should check out the [awesome graphic](http://silent-bridge.tumblr.com/post/116012125844/lets-stay-together-semper-ama) that Silent-Bridge made! It's so beautiful!

Chris has almost forgotten how hard it is to be in a relationship and shoot a movie at the same time. There is no set schedule to speak of, which means there is no telling when he’ll be free at the same time Zach is. They both have keys to each other’s places now, but most days of the week that means they are staying at the apartment of whoever gets in last, and they barely have time for a kiss and a short conversation before bed. 

Given that he isn’t carrying the whole movie on his shoulders this time around—that honor goes to Ellen—he does get a day off, or an afternoon off, every now and again. That free time is mainly spent in as close to a vegetative state as possible, despite the fact that Zach must be bored to death by that. He does have work to do, but Chris knows he would probably rather be dragging around him around New York to see the sights than spending most of their time cooped up in one of their apartments

Zach doesn’t complain though. It’s almost alarming how little Zach complains. This feels like it should be harder. Chris is used to relationships not working out because of the demands on his time—demands that he can’t meet—but Zach is nothing but supportive. Chris almost forgets that he needs to be supportive in return, until Zach helpfully reminds him one afternoon.

“I think I found my movie,” Zach says and drops a script into Chris’s lap before plopping down next to him on the couch.

“Oh yeah?” Chris mutes the television and arches an interested eyebrow in Zach’s direction. “How many serial killers?”

“Fuck off,” Zach laughs, elbowing Chris in the ribs. He leans his head on Chris’s shoulder and looks down at the pages. He seems tense. “Seriously though, I, uh, want your opinion on it.”

“You already talk to Neal and Cory?”

“Not yet.”

Chris frowns and thumbs the edges of the pages. “You’re worried about it?”

Zach sighs and straightens up again, running his fingers through his hair. When Chris looks over at him, he forces a fake, lopsided grin. “Yeah, I’m worried about it. I know you can’t see past the hearts in your eyes, but I am but a mere mortal.”

“Bullshit,” Chris says with a grin. “You’re not a ‘mere’ anything.” Zach’s smile turns genuine, and Chris is satisfied. “So what’s got you worried?”

Chris flips open to the first page, like maybe the answer will be staring him right in the face. He doesn’t get to read more than a couple lines before Zach’s hands are gently closing over his and folding the script closed again. Zach is shaking his head when he looks up.

“Don’t read it now. Take it with you to set or something.”

So Zach really _is_ worried about it. Chris frowns and looks down at the pages again, feeling guilty. As busy as he has been with filming, he hasn’t paid much attention to Zach’s search for the perfect script for Before the Door to produce next—the script that will be Zach’s directorial debut. It hasn’t even occurred to him that Zach would be apprehensive about it. Zach is decisive and confident about everything he does. He always seems to know where he wants his career to go next. Chris has always envied that about him.

“I’ll read it,” he says, curling it into a cylinder and tapping it against his knuckles.

“Good. I respect your opinion.”

Chris licks his lips and then cocks his head to the side, staring at Zach thoughtfully. “My professional opinion, or my opinion as your boyfriend?”

He says the last word deliberately, testing the way it feels in his mouth. It’s not a word he’s used before, but it feels natural to say it now anyway. It feels right. And the way it makes Zach duck his head and grin almost bashfully feels right too.

“Both,” Zach admits when he looks up again. “Your opinion as someone who knows me well, both personally and professionally.”

Chris swells with pride. Even after a decade of friendship, he never gets tired of hearing that Zach respects him professionally. He knows Zach doesn’t give respect away easily, so it feels like an accomplishment to be at the point where he wants his advice. After all, it’s was _Zach’s_ advice that really launched Chris’s career. 

“I’ll read it,” Chris reassures him again. He leans in for a kiss, and Zach meets him halfway.

————

Usually Chris takes a book with him to set, but this week he takes the script. He reads in the makeup chair, reads between takes. He studies it as diligently as if he were reading it for himself, getting ready to play a role. For three consecutive days, he gets home and sees Zach looking at him with hopeful eyes, and for three consecutive days he tells him that he’s not quite done yet. Zach says he should take his time, but it’s obvious that he is impatient.

Chris needs every second of the time he takes though, because there is a lot to sink his teeth into. The story is both touching and compelling. It follows a group of pre-teens—three boys and two girls—who embark on a journey to save one of their number from an abusive foster home by taking him back to his real mother, who lives on the other side of the state. The kids are all misfits—a couple of them merely eccentric and the rest dealing with problems ranging from poverty to budding realizations of homosexuality to emotionally absent parents. It’s not a fluffy script. It won’t be an easy movie to direct, given a cast largely made up of teenage actors. 

But it’s so Zach. It’s _so_ Zach.

He finishes the script on set on the fourth day after Zach first dropped it in his lap. He’s just flipping it closed—and thumbing a tear out of the corner of his eye—when Ellen stops next to his chair.

“Alright,” she says. “Now that you’re done reading it, I can ask you why you’ve barely put that thing down the last few days, right? What is it? Script for your next movie? Are you already checking out on us, Pine?”

Chris chuckles and swipes again at his eyes. Damn his tendency to cry at the drop of a hat. “Nah. Just something I’m reading for Zach.”

The name rolls off his tongue in exactly the way that a boyfriend’s name should—as if everyone should know immediately who he is talking about, as if that name is inextricably linked to him somehow. Ellen raises her eyebrows at him and leans her hip against the arm of his chair.

“Quinto?” she asks, thought it’s clear she already knows the answer. It occurs to Chris that she and Zach might have met each other at one LGBT function or another. He assumes they aren’t best buds or anything, or Zach would have told him.

“Yeah.” Chris tries to sound nonchalant. “He wants to get into directing, and he asked for my opinion on this script.” 

Ellen’s eyebrows climb higher. “Man, you’ve been reading that thing like it’s your _job_.”

“It’s a good story,” Chris says with a shrug. “I was enthralled.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bet.” She sounds skeptical, but Chris stares her down. It’s the truth, after all. After a moment, Ellen breaks into a grin and she tucks her hair behind her ear. “So what’s the verdict then? Yea or nay?”

“I think it’s perfect for him,” Chris answers honestly. “I’m already excited about it.”

“Good. I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it.” She smiles, gives his shoulder a squeeze, and half-turns as if to walk away, but Chris reaches out a hand to stop her. There is something bubbling up inside him, a question that he wants to ask even though it might not be the best idea. So far, the only person that has been privy to his inner turmoil is Zach, and while he has been as helpful as a person could possibly be, Chris is neglecting another resource that is right in front of him. 

“Ellen?” 

Ellen turns back around and tilts her head at him questioningly. Chris looks around for a moment to make sure no one is paying attention to them, but the crew is setting up for the next scene, so everyone is far too busy to eavesdrop on a quiet conversation. He takes a deep breath. “When did you know you were gay?”

He expects some level of shock at the question. He at least expects a little glimmer of curiosity. Ellen just grins at him though, shaking her head a little bit in what seems like fond exasperation. “I knew since I was a teenager, Chris. Fourteen or fifteen maybe. But you know what?”

“What?” Chris asks, trying very hard to keep his voice steady.

“No two people I talk to have the same answer to that question,” she says, smiling at him like she knows he needs encouragement. And maybe she _does_ know. It can’t be that hard to deduce why he might be asking. “Some people have known as long as they can remember. Some figured it out in college. Some thought they were gay and figured out they were actually bi later. Some noticed the opposite sex every now and the but thought they were heteroromantic until they found the right person. There’s no right time to figure it out.”

Chris nods, trying not to look too grateful for the fact that she is telling him exactly what he needs to hear. Maybe Zach would say the same thing, but on a certain level he _has_ to say those things. Ellen has no obligation not to be honest with him. “And did you know...all at once, or…?”

“No,” Ellen says. Then, she frowns. “Well, sort of. I wasn’t really sure for a while, and then all of a sudden I was.”

“What made you sure?”

The sympathy in her expression makes Chris’s stomach flutter with nerves. Right now, she seems so much older than she is. Chris feels like a child when she pats his shoulder. “I fell in love.”

“Oh,” Chris says, heat rising in his cheeks. His heart feels wobbly. His palms feel clammy.

Ellen laughs a good-natured laugh and pats his arm again. “You’ll be alright, Pine. Give my best to Zach.”

“But—” Chris starts to protest.

“With regard to his directing aspirations, of course,” she says with a wink. And with that, she turns on her heel and struts away.

————

As soon as he leaves set and checks his phone, Chris sees a text from Zach telling him that he’s getting drinks with some of his theater friends and will come by afterward. It just figures that when Chris is finally ready and eager to talk, Zach is unavailable. On the bright side, it gives Chris some time to go home and get some food in his stomach and unwind a little bit. He isn’t always in the best mood after a long day of filming, and tonight he wants to greet Zach with all the enthusiasm and affection he deserves. A little downtime is probably a good thing.

When he finally hears Zach’s key in the lock, Chris is curled up on one end of the couch with a book in his hands. He closes it and looks up just as Zach comes into the room.

“Hey, baby,” Zach says brightly. Where Chris usually comes home from social gatherings drained and a little cranky, Zach is invigorated by them. He is practically buzzing with energy when he sits down beside Chris and leans in for a loud, smacking kiss. “How was your day?”

Chris feels a sudden surge of gratitude. Zach has been his support, his rock, his security blanket for almost two months now, and one of those months included a busy filming schedule that meant they couldn’t spend as much quality time together as they may have wanted. This is what a relationship between two busy actors means, Chris supposes. Right now, he is working. Down the road, Zach will be working. Maybe they won’t always be in the same city at the same time. Maybe even when they are, there will be times when neither one of them has the energy to do more than climb into bed and pass out at the end of the day. But Chris _wants_ all of that. He wants to figure it out, with Zach.

It feels like the cobwebs are clearing out of his mind, and that is such a relief. Chris smiles and wraps his arms around Zach’s shoulders. “I finished reading that script.”

Zach’s demeanor changes just slightly enough that Chris might not notice it if he didn’t know Zach so well. His smile gets a little stiffer at the corners and his eyes narrow a fraction. “Oh yeah?”

Chris laughs—he can’t help it. It seems absurd now that Zach would ever have been worried. But maybe Zach feels the same way about all the silly things that have worried Chris as of late. 

“Yeah. Zach,” Chris says, smiling. “I think it’s great. I think it’s a perfect fit for you.”

“Oh, good,” Zach murmurs, blowing out a long, relieved breath The tension drains out of his body and he slumps against Chris. “I just...I think it’s the fact that it’s about a bunch of kids that drew me to it at first. I loved working with the kids in The Slap, you know? They just have so much imagination and potential, and they’re like...like rubber bands. They can reach such great heights of emotion and bounce back so quickly and—” He cuts himself off when he realizes he’s babbling, looking down shyly. “But you think the story is right? You think I can do it?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to do it?” Chris asks. Maybe his belief that Zach can do anything in the world is a _little_ hyperbolic, but there is no doubt in his mind that this, at least, is one thing Zach will have no trouble with.

“Because...I don’t know. It has so many layers to it. Maybe I should start simpler. With a genre I’m more familiar with. Horror, maybe, or sci-fi, or...”

Chris shakes his head. “Simple isn’t you. I think you need to do something that you care about. Plus, you’ll have Neal and Corey to help you. And the whole production team. And...me.”

Zach leans away so he can better see Chris’s face. “It’s going to be at least a few months before we could get production up and running. Before the Door is wrapped up in something else right now, and I still have to contact the screenwriter, and—”

“Yeah, well,” Chris interrupts, “I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

The grin that blooms on Zach’s face is easily the most beautiful thing Chris has ever seen. He has to lean in and kiss him. Even though it’s awkward and he gets mostly teeth, it’s worth it to feel the curve of Zach’s smile against his.

“God. Okay,” Zach says when they break apart again. “Okay. I’m going to get the ball rolling then. Tomorrow.”

“I’m excited for you. You’re going to be a great director.” Chris gives Zach a squeeze. 

“You just say that because you know I love telling people what to do,” Zach says with a laugh.

“That’s part of it,” Chris teases. He watches Zach’s face for a moment, wanting to savor the unbridled happiness he sees there for one more moment before he brings up the other thing he wanted to talk about tonight. Finally, he settles back against the arm of the couch and looks down at the floor. “So, I...I have something I want to tell you.”

Zach reaches out and squeezes Chris’s knee, and Chris looks up just in time to see his expression turn sour. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Umm, really good, actually. I just...I talked to Ellen today.” Zach’s eyebrows tick up, but he doesn’t say anything, forcing Chris to plow on. “I talked to her about, umm, sexuality stuff. I figured it might help me to hear what someone else has to say about it, and...and it _did_ help me. And I think...I think I’m bisexual?”

He doesn’t mean to say it like a question. He just wanted to test how the word sounded when he said it out loud, to see whether it felt right when it came out of his mouth. If he’s being honest, he _doesn’t_ feel completely comfortable saying it, which is probably why the question mark snuck into his voice. But it feels a whole lot better to say it than to continue being unsure of what he is. Zach has been telling him there is no pressure to put a label on himself, but this isn’t about labels. It’s about acceptance. It’s about validating the things he has been working through and integrating in this new identity. He just needs time to get used to the word, and he wanted Zach to be the first one to hear him say it. Later, he’ll talk to his parents, his sister. Later still, he’ll tell the rest of the world. Right now, he just needs Zach to know that he’s one step closer.

Zach melts. He looks _proud_ , and it makes the blood rush to Chris’s face, makes him look away. Zach doesn’t allow that for long though. He reaches out and catches Chris by the chin and turns his head back toward him with gentle fingers. “God, Chris, I love you so much.”

Chris forgets how to breathe. He had been expecting any number of reactions from Zach—exasperation, amusement, perhaps pride as the very best case—but he didn’t expect this. His eyes fill with tears when it starts to sink in. Zach just told him he _loves_ him. 

“I love you too,” Chris says. He means it with all his heart. This feeling in his chest is the same feeling that he has had all along, only now he has a name for it. “Bisexual” he still has to get used to, but “love”...that feels right. It feels like his heart has been screaming it this whole time, begging him to let the word come out of his mouth. “I love you too, Zach.”

Zach kisses him hard, pressing in close but not close enough. Chris wraps an arm around the small of his back and tugs until there is no more space between them. He slides his fingers into Zach’s hair and then strokes them down the back of his neck, splaying his fingers under his collar so he can reach as much skin as possible. It seems important that they touch as much as they can right now. Chris would aim for skin on skin if he could bring himself to pull away from Zach’s mouth long enough to strip his shirt off.

In the end, it’s Zach who breaks the kiss, though he doesn’t go far. He noses along Chris’s cheek, then breathes into his ear, making him shiver. “Let me take you to bed.”

“Yeah,” Chris says automatically. A moment later, his brain catches up with him, and he pulls back, shaking his head. “Wait. I...I think I want to…”

Zach looks confused for a moment, and then understanding dawns slowly on his face. “Chris, you just had a big breakthrough. We don’t have to—”

“No, I’m _ready_ , Zach,” Chris insists. He wants Zach so badly. He wants to give Zach everything. His heart, his trust, his body. It feels like the right time.

Zach is shaking his head, though. "Not tonight, okay? You’re tired, and I’ve got three martinis in me. Let’s just...you have a half day of shooting on Thursday, right?” Chris nods, trying not to pout. “Okay then. We can wait until then. I’ll make dinner and—”

“You don’t have to seduce me,” Chris says. “I already want you.” As if to prove his point, he leans in and kisses Zach again, briefly but fervently.

“I know you do,” Zach sighs, awe in his voice. “And I know I don’t _have_ to. But...I haven’t been able to really date you. I just want it to be...special.”

A protest about how he isn’t a teenage girl is on the tip of Chris’s tongue, but he bites it back. Zach has been so good to him, and Chris knows he should accept that support and care, not question it and push it away. Even though he thinks being that intimate Zach will be special no matter what, he can see that this means a lot to him. Plus, he’s right. They haven’t been able to do all the things that couples normally would do. Their nights together have mostly consisted of watching TV in their sweats. Maybe they deserve something a little more special.

“Okay,” Chris agrees at last. His heart is already beating faster with excitement and no small amount of nervousness. “Okay. Thursday. It’s a date.”

“Great,” Zach says, smiling softly at him. Then his smile turns playful and predatory, and he curls his fingers into Chris’s shirt and drags him in close again. “But I still want to take you to bed.”

Chris laughs and nips at Zach’s bottom lip. “Lead the way, Zachary.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zach and Chris share a special night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been an amazing experience for me, and I just want to thank you all for your support along the way. Your amazing comments and enthusiasm kept me going along the way. I'm sad to see it end, but all things must come to and end sometime, and I hope you all enjoy the last chapter.
> 
> Also a special thank you again to JunoMagic, whom I could not have done this without. She has been a magnificent beta and made the whole experience of writing this more enjoyable and rewarding. I'm convinced I'm a better writer now than I was when I started out.

“You’re early,” Zach says when he pulls open the door, but it’s not an accusation. He is grinning wide, clearly delighted, and he tugs Chris inside and into a startlingly tender kiss. The butterflies that have been fluttering around in Chris’s stomach since morning go still. He knew that they would. By now the calming effect Zach has on him is a foregone conclusion. Just seeing his face makes Chris feel at home. 

“Sorry,” Chris says, even though he’s not really sorry at all. “I could only change my shirt so many times.”

Zach lifts an eyebrow and gives Chris a once over—slow and deliberate enough that he goes hot from head to toe. “You did well, Pine.” 

Chris smooths the front of his shirt and gives a self-conscious little shrug. Zach is one to talk. He looks as gorgeous as Chris has ever seen him, his hair perfectly coiffed, dressed up nicer than he has been in a while. They have walked many a red carpet together, so Chris knows how stunning Zach can look when he really turns it on, and he has certainly turned it on tonight. Chris sweeps his eyes down his body and is struck with the urge to drop to his knees right there, press his face to the soft, dove-gray fabric of Zach’s slacks. He blushes, then tries to hide it by scrubbing a hand across his face. 

Zach notices—of course he notices—but he doesn’t say anything. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth is the only thing that betrays him. “Come in,” he says, giving Chris’s bicep a squeeze and then gesturing toward the kitchen. “Have some wine. I’m making carbonara, so I hope you don’t mind watching me cook.”

Chris snorts, following right on Zach’s heels. “Your ego is showing, Quinto. Don’t even pretend you didn’t plan this so I would _have_ to watch you cook.”

Zach tosses a cheshire grin over his shoulder, then hunts in the cabinet for a wine glass. On the way over, Chris had been worried that this would feel too much like an awkward first date—like that coffee date they started out with. He was concerned that the specialness that Zach wants to extract from the night would translate into stiltedness. That isn’t the case, though—at least not so far. The atmosphere is comfortable and familiar. Zach pours Chris a generous measure of red without needing to ask what he likes. When he walks over to hand Chris his glass, he leans in to steal a kiss. Chris lets out a little relieved breath. It’s just him and Zach. Nothing about it feels strange. He can relax a little bit, for now.

Chris usually thinks of himself as the cook between the two of them, so he forgets sometimes that Zach moves through a kitchen with ease. He flows from cabinet to stove to pantry, gathering utensils and food together, and Chris can’t take his eyes off of him. After a few minutes, there is a pot of water heating on one burner while Zach dribbles olive oil into a pan on another. Chris wanders closer to watch.

“You’re not worried about me stealing your super secret recipe or anything?” he says, leaning his hip against the counter next to the stove and peering into the pans.

Zach smiles at him and step closer for a moment, palming his hip. “Nah. I don’t think there’s much of a secret to pasta carbonara. Just don’t use bacon, ever, or I’ll have to break up with you.”

“Pancetta or bust. Got it.” Chris sets his glass down on the counter behind him and then winds his arms around Zach’s neck. He doesn’t lean in, lets Zach come to him instead, sighs as Zach licks into his mouth and makes a low, needy sound. A little more of this and Chris might not have any nerves left at all.

But then Zach is stepping away again and turning regretfully back to the job of cooking. Chris sighs again, mournfully this time, and picks his wine glass back up. He supposes they really should eat, as much as he would be happy to skip it, go right to the end of the night before he can psych himself out any more.

Zach keeps his mind well-occupied, though. As he adds the pancetta to the pan, he launches into a story about his conversation with the writer of his new pet project. Between listening to Zach talk and watching him cook, Chris doesn’t have room for many thoughts. He isn’t sure when the act of stirring became erotic, but maybe it’s the way Zach bites his bottom lip or the way his eyebrows pinch together in concentration. Whatever the case, by the time Zach is finishing up, Chris isn’t sure if he wants Zach or the food more.

It’s his stomach that wins out. The pasta looks delicious, and it ends up tasting even better. Chris groans obscenely around the first mouthful, then bites down on a smirk when he sees Zach’s eyes go dark from across the table. 

“Seriously, this is amazing, Zach,” he says, twirling another forkful. “Transcendent, even.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s flattery, but thank you.” Despite his shrugging off of the compliment, it’s clear Zach is pleased. His smile flickers in the light of the candles in the middle of the table—another attempt to create the special atmosphere Zach wanted, no doubt. “Anyway, how was work?”

Chris smiles. The question feels oddly domestic— _How was the office today, sweetie?_ —but he doesn’t have a problem with that. He launches into a recount of his day. These are the times when he enjoys it most that he and Zach are both actors. He always felt a little bit guilty talking about his job with most of his exes, because after the shine wore off, he could tell they got bored hearing about the gaffer that walked into his eyeline or sub-par fruit at craft services. Zach understands all those things, and it feels like he’s really listening. The more Chris thinks about it, and the more he looks at Zach looking at him, the more he realizes that _no one_ has ever given him the level of undivided attention that Zach gives him. 

Eventually their plates are clean, and Chris leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach in satisfaction. When Zach starts to get to his feet, though, Chris preempts him, leaping up and snatching both plates. “Let me clean up. You already did all the heavy lifting.”

Zach raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t protest. Chris can feel his eyes on him as he goes to the sink and rinses the plates before depositing them in the dishwasher. A moment later, Zach comes into the kitchen area with the remains of the salad and their wine glasses. He puts the salad away in the fridge and then pours them both some more wine. Chris finishes cleaning up just in time to take his glass from Zach and then follow him to the living room.

“What do you think?” Zach says as he sets his glass on a coaster. “Movie?” 

He is already halfway to the entertainment center by the time Chris intercepts him, catching him by the elbow and tugging him around. He leans sideways to set his glass down too, then grips Zach by the hips. “No, I don’t want to watch a movie.”

Zach, who has been so sure of himself this whole time, falters. “Chris…”

“Zach,” Chris sasses. He raises his hands to frame Zach’s face, sweeping his thumbs across his cheekbones, and then leans in to kiss him slowly, sweetly. After a moment, he pulls back. “I know you’re trying to ease me into it, but I want you, okay? I’m dying here.”

He smiles, and Zach smiles back, then chuckles a little bit. “You’re supposed to be the one freaking out here, not me.”

“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself.” Chris steals another quick kiss. “I just want you. That’s all. Just you.”

Zach lets out a small shuddery breath and pulls Chris in close, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes like he’s trying to steady himself. Chris wraps his arms around him and lets himself just rest in the quiet moment, the calm before he inevitably starts to get nervous again himself. For now, he will give his strength to Zach. Later, Zach can give strength to him. Maybe that’s what love really is.

“Okay,” Zach says at last. He opens his eyes and pulls back a little, his eyes flickering over Chris’s face before cutting to the hall that leads to the bedroom. “Okay,” he says again. His hand finds Chris’s, and he starts leading him backward. He doesn’t look away from Chris’s face, his gaze full of desire and promise. His thumb strokes the heel of Chris’s hand, but Chris thinks it might be as much for Zach to calm himself as it is to offer comfort to him. 

They make it as far as the bedroom door before Zach stops them again.

“Wait, just…” Zach lets go of Chris’s hand and puts a hand on his chest. “Just wait here.”

Without waiting for any protest, Zach turns back around and slips into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him before Chris can peek inside. Chris shifts his weight from foot to foot and tries not to be too anxious—which of course doesn’t work. He stares intently at the door, like he’s hoping he’ll be able to see through it if he tries hard enough. Not knowing what to expect is scary. Zach is preparing some kind of surprise on the other side of that door, and right now a surprise is the last thing Chris needs.

When Zach reemerges, he looks sheepish, almost embarrassed. He closes the door behind him again and keeps one hand on the door knob, facing Chris. “Okay, so, you’re going to think I’m a complete imbecile, but...I told you I wanted it to be special.”

Chris frowns. He reaches for Zach’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Zach…”

“Just promise you won’t laugh.” Zach looks so vulnerable, and that makes Chris feel oddly brave. His nervousness doesn’t completely subside, but he wants to be steady for Zach.

“I won’t laugh.”

Zach pushes the door open and leads Chris into the room. Chris has been in Zach’s bedroom what seems like thousands of times at this point, but he has never seen it like this. The majority of the light comes from candles—candles on the nightstands on each side of the bed, on the the dresser, on the windowsill. The room is bathed in dancing yellow light. Chris half expects to see rose petals on the bed, but Zach didn’t go quite that far. The sheets are turned down and unnaturally creaseless, but luckily there is no flower detritus in sight. 

Chris doesn’t know how to feel at first. Of course he doesn’t think that Zach is an imbecile, but it _is_ a little cheesy. He can’t help but worry that Zach is holding this night to an impossible standard. If Chris freaks out halfway through this, it’s going to be that much more embarrassing in the midst of all the romantic ambience. But he knows Zach, and he knows that over-the-top theatrical tendencies are kind of his signature. The more Chris looks around the room, the easier it is to see past the cloying sweetness to the feeling behind it, to how much Zach loves him and how much thought he has put into making this as perfect as possible.

When he looks over, Zach is looking back at him, watching intently for his reaction. Chris smiles. “You sap,” he says quietly. Fondly. “Come here.”

Zach smiles and steps into close again, running his hands up Chris’s back. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Chris says. “I love you too.”

Zach kisses him. He probably means for it to stay sweet and tender, but his thumb slips under the collar of Chris’s shirt and skates along his skin, and somehow that’s all it takes to make Chris groan and surge forward, clutching desperately at him. The heat that has been burning low in his stomach since he walked in the door flares up now. He buries his hands in Zach’s hair, then cups the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. 

When Chris’s back hits the sheets, it’s startling. He didn’t even realize they were moving, or that Zach managed to get his shirt half unbuttoned between the door and the bed. Chris arches up as Zach’s palm slides down his chest, then cups him through his pants, giving him a tentative squeeze.

“You know,” Zach says, speaking over the impatient noise Chris makes when he pulls away. “We’ve been assuming this would go down a certain way, but if you want to be the one to—”

“No,” Chris says with finality. He knows where Zach was going with that, and he doesn’t need to hear the rest. “No, I…I want…” He bites down on his bottom lip, trying to think of a way to say what he wants without it sounding vulgar. _I want you to fuck me_ isn’t quite right. It doesn’t really capture what he needs. “I want to feel you,” he says instead. Because that’s the real truth—the simplest truth. He wants to feel Zach inside and out. He wants Zach to be the only thing he feels.

“Are you sure?” Zach asks. He probably feels he has to ask, but Chris can see the hopeful look on his face. He smiles and reaches up to stroke his fingers across Zach’s brow, like he could smooth away the lines there.

“I’m sure,” he says. “When I think about it...this is how I imagine it.”

That’s the right thing to say. He can see the transformation in Zach, the way his eyes widen in awe and he freezes, like he’s afraid he’ll shatter the moment. “You think about it?”

Chris nods, running his tongue across his lips. “Yeah. Of course I do. I want you, Zach. So much.”

Zach breathes out slowly and leans in for another kiss. After that things go hazy for a while. Chris can’t keep track of Zach’s hands, which seem like they are everywhere at once, stripping him out of his clothes and running across his skin. His own hands feel fumbling and ineffective, but somehow between the two of them they manage to get Zach naked too. Zach’s cock slides against Chris’s thigh, and he groans into Chris’s mouth, hands gripping his waist.

“Turn over,” Zach murmurs—not a question, a command. Chris balks.

“I want to look at you,” he says, pushing Zach away a little so he can see his face now. “I want to...can’t we do it like this?”

“We will,” Zach says, his tone reassuring. He skims a hand down Chris’s chest and then wraps it around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes. “We will, but not until I get the chance to make you beg for it like I said I would.”

“Zach,” Chris protests. His hips come off the bed as he tries to push himself through Zach’s fist, but Zach is an immovable object, his eyes glinting with impishness and desire. “If you want me to beg, I’ll beg.”

“What I want you to do is turn over.” Zach lets go of his cock and tugs on his hip, and even though Chris wants to argue more, he flips onto his stomach. He trusts Zach, and he knows he only wants him to feel good. 

Zach doesn’t give him much time to worry. He plants his hand in the small of Chris’s back and just lets it rest there for a moment, a comforting and familiar pressure against his skin. Then, slowly, he lets his palm drift downward, over the curve of his ass. Chris can practically feel Zach’s eyes on him, and it raises the hair on the back of his neck. There is some shifting on the bed, then Zach’s other hand is there too, and Zach squeezes, spreads him open. Chris sucks in a sharp breath and buries his burning face in the pillow.

A moment later, he is glad he did, because the pillow muffles the undignified squeak he makes when Zach _licks_ him, high up on the inside of his thigh. “Zach,” he gasps, picking his head up again and reaching blindly behind him. Zach catches his hand and threads their fingers together, giving him something to squeeze when Zach’s tongue makes contact with his skin on the other thigh.

“Zach,” Chris repeats beseechingly, but Zach is either ignoring him on purpose or his mouth is too busy. He disentangles his fingers from Chris’s and spreads him open again, and Chris only gets a half-second to be worried before Zach is licking right over his hole.

_“Zach.”_

“Hmm?” Zach says, humming right into Chris’s skin.

“Don’t,” Chris stammers. He pushes himself up on his forearms and tries to look back over his shoulder. “That’s—”

“Good?” Zach asks cheekily. Then, he licks again, slowly, like he’s savoring it. Chris can’t help the pathetic moan that comes out of his mouth, or the way he drops back onto his stomach even though what he really wants to do is squirm away. The fact is, it feels fucking _incredible_. Zach’s tongue is lighting up nerve endings he didn’t even know he had, and even though his brain is shouting no, his body is screaming _yes_. He shudders, pushes involuntarily back against Zach’s face. Zach’s laugh is a sensation more than a sound—a hot puff of air against his ass that precedes another languid lick. 

“Oh fuck,” Chris whispers. He bites down on his fist.

Zach’s mouth leaves him for a moment, and he almost whimpers at the loss. “You okay up there?” 

“What are you doing?” Chris gasps, as if he doesn’t already know.

“Getting you comfortable with me touching you here,” Zach says. He brushes a thumb across Chris’s hole, and Chris makes a broken sound. “Getting you ready for me.”

“Are you sure that’s—?”

“Trust me, Chris, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he says. And before Chris can respond, he’s diving back in, really going for it, lapping at Chris like he’s starving for him. Chris can hear a string of truly embarrassing noises coming out of his mouth, but he can’t seem to get them to stop. Zach it turning him into a bundle of raw nerves, held together only by Zach’s grip on his hips.

What starts out being too much quickly becomes not enough though. Chris’s cock is hard and leaking where it’s trapped against the mattress, and no matter how he tries to push himself back onto Zach’s face, he just can’t seem to get what he wants. He doesn’t even _know_ what he wants. He just knows that if Zach doesn’t give it to him soon, he might lose his mind.

“Zach, _please_ ,” he whines. “Please, come on, I need...I need…”

Zach chuckles and then pulls away, which is exactly the opposite of what Chris wanted. But he can feel Zach crawling up the bed, and then he drops a kiss on Chris’s shoulder. “Told you I’d get you begging,” Zach says in his ear.

Chris kind of wants to hit him, but instead he wriggles around, back onto his back, and looks up into Zach’s incredibly smug face. “Hey, remember when you were being all romantic? I think I liked that version better.”

Zach laughs again, and in that moment, happy and open and illuminated by candlelight, he is stunning enough to take Chris’s breath away. Chris hooks a hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Zach licks at the seam of his lips, a parody of what he was just doing to Chris’s ass, and Chris lets out a ragged breath. 

“Come on, Zach,” he pleads. “I want you.”

The teasing portion of the night seems to be over, because Zach doesn’t argue with him his time. He kisses Chris one more time, then leans over to the bedside table. And that, of course, is Chris’s cue to start getting anxious. Sure, the rimming was outside his comfort zone, and it felt good, but this is going to be something entirely different. This is going to be Zach’s not-insignificant dick inside him. What if he doesn’t like it? What if it hurts? He wants it _now_ , wants it so bad he can’t imagine backing out, but what if that changes in a minute?

Zach cuts off his thoughts by leaning in for another kiss—the kind of kiss that occupies Chris’s mind for a while. He nibbles at Chris’s lips and explores the inside of his mouth with his tongue, and Chris can’t help but be swept up in it, so much so that he hardly notices the click of the lube cap or the hand slipping between his legs. It’s isn’t until Zach’s finger is breaching him that Chris breaks the kiss, hissing and then arching off the bed, not sure if he is trying to get more or get away.

It’s not bad—not yet. He guesses that Zach’s fancy tonguework might have eased the way somewhat, and the copious amount of lube Zach is obviously using helps too. The intrusion is a little strange, but it doesn’t really feel _bad_. Chris makes himself open his eyes and look at Zach, and Zach is looking right back at him, his expression affectionate and desirous at once. 

“Talk to me,” Chris says. Maybe Zach’s low, soothing voice will help take Chris’s mind off the strangeness of what is happening. 

Zach is silent for a moment, like he’s either thinking of what to say or isn’t sure he wants to say what’s on his mind. Chris’s bet falls on the latter when Zach sucks in a shaky, nervous-sounding breath before speaking. “Do you want to know when I first thought about doing this with you?”

“Yeah,” Chris breathes. “Tell me.”

Even in the low light, Chris can tell Zach’s cheeks are coloring a little. Zach’s finger slides in and out of him a couple times before he speaks again. “I made it all the way to the first press tour before I let myself think about it in any detail. There were times when you were tempting before that—like when you were bent backward over the Enterprise console—”

“Not my fault,” Chris interrupts, smirking a little. Zach rewards him for that by crooking his finger, making his jaw go slack and drawing a groan from his mouth.

“But the first time I really let myself slip was during the press tour. I don’t even remember what interview it was. I just remember that you were laying it on thick, and I could have sworn you were flirting with me. And fuck, you _never_ stopped licking your lips. I just...I couldn’t take it. I got back to my hotel room that night and jerked off in the shower.”

Zach punctuates the story by adding a second finger, and Chris curses, reaching out to grip Zach’s bicep hard. It burns this time. It’s not so bad that Chris can’t take it, but it definitely burns.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks. “In the shower. What were you...what did you want?”

“God, everything.” Zach twists his fingers, scissors them, and pets at Chris’s flank with his free hand. “I was thinking about whether anyone had ever done this to you before, whether I could be the first. I was imagining you looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now, spread out under me like you are right now. Chris, this is...I almost can’t believe this is happening.”

Chris drags Zach in by the back of the neck until their foreheads are resting together and they are breathing the same air. “It’s happening, Zach. This is real.”

The words are for Zach, but they are for himself too. This is real—the way he feels, the way Zach is making him feel. The burn and stretch is real, but so is his ever-expanding rapture. It feels like he’s been waiting his whole life to feel this way and never knew it. It feels like every step was just one more step closer to Zach.

“I’m ready,” he says, then tips his chin up to brush his lips gently against Zach’s. He’s not sure if he means that he’s ready for what they’re about to do or ready for something much bigger than that, but it doesn’t really matter. All he knows is that he needs to be connected to Zach in every way possible, and he needs it right now.

Zach doesn’t argue with him. It’s clear that he’s feeling desperate himself, his hand shaking when he tears open the condom wrapper and rolls it on. Chris closes his eyes when Zach pops the cap on the lube again, but he opens them—at Zach’s bidding—when Zach’s cock is pressed up against him. He forces himself to breathe out, not to tense up. And then Zach presses forward.

Chris’s mind fills with static. There isn’t room for thoughts when Zach is pushing into him, filling him up. He is overwhelmed by sensation, like being caught in a riptide, dragged under no matter how hard he tries to kick for the surface. Zach’s hands slide up Chris’s chest and hook over his shoulders, and his hips push inexorably forward, and Chris is dimly aware of a whimper coming out of his mouth just before Zach stops moving altogether.

“You okay, baby?” Zach says. He reaches up and smooths a hand down the side of Chris’s face.

“Don’t stop,” Chris replies. “Please don’t stop.”

Zach doesn’t look away from him for a second. Chris holds the eye contact like a lifeline, the counterpoint to the way Zach is turning him inside out. He’s going easy on him for now, Chris can tell. Each thrust seems to take years, a slow drag that ensures Chris can feel every millimeter of Zach’s dick sliding in and out of him. And it’s fucking _surreal_. Zach is inside him. He is full of Zach. His body is full, his heart is full. 

“I love you,” he gasps, almost against his own volition. “I love you so much.”

“Chris,” Zach says. That’s all he seems to be able to say, but Chris knows what he means.

The overwhelming stretch doesn’t subside all at once. Chris can’t pinpoint the exact moment when too much becomes just enough, but eventually he finds himself canting his hips up to meet Zach’s ever thrust, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. It’s encouraging that he made it past the worst of it. Now is not the time to celebrate, but it feels like passing the last test. He knew he loved Zach, knew he wanted him, but now he knows he can _have_ him—all of him. Even this. Especially this.

“Fuck, it feels good, Zach,” Chris says, his voice strained and stunned. “So good.”

“Yeah,” Zach agrees breathlessly. He runs a hand up the outside of Chris’s thigh and then reaches for his cock. When Zach’s hand wraps around him, Chris moans and curses. He is closer than he realized, but he desperately doesn’t want this to end. He splays a hand across the small of Zach’s back to urge him on, and Zach takes the hint, snapping his hips forward hard enough that Chris nearly shouts.

“Fuck yes,” he hisses. Suddenly it seems inconceivable that he wasn’t doing this years ago, doing this years ago _with Zach_. It’s the last piece of the puzzle sliding into the place—the finishing flourish on his newly discovered identity. This is right. Every part of this is right. Nothing has ever felt more right.

Zach is barely stroking him, his movements uncoordinated as he concentrates on the rhythm of his hips, but Chris doesn’t require much coordination right now apparently. When his orgasm hits him, the force of it is enough to make him cry out, his fingers digging hard into Zach’s shoulder as he spills onto his own stomach. In the haze that follows, he is only sort of aware of Zach’s low groan, the way his thrusts grow erratic, the pulsing of his cock inside him. It’s isn’t until Zach is collapsing on top of him, sweaty and sated, that Chris full comes back to himself. He loops his arms around Zach’s neck and pulls him even closer, heedless of the mess between them, and holds on tight.

“Don’t move,” he says. He’s still breathing hard. His heart is still pounding. “Just stay. Stay right here.”

Zach makes a sound Chris doesn’t have a name for. He pushes his face into Chris’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

————

Chris isn’t sure whether they lay there tangled together for minutes or hours, but eventually it has to come to an end. He is stunned by how bereft he feels when Zach slides out of him and heads for the bathroom. But Zach is back in a moment, and he kisses Chris tenderly while he runs a warm washcloth over his stomach, then between his legs.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks.

Chris shakes his head and clutches Zach’s wrist. “In the morning. Come back to bed.”

Zach smiles and kisses Chris’s cheekbone, his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s likely that Chris will be glad in the morning that Zach had the foresight to clean them both up, but he still counts the seconds until Zach returns and climbs back in bed. When Zach flops back down on top of him, laying his head on his chest, Chris wraps his arms tight around his shoulders and kisses his hair. 

“So,” Zach says after a moment, “I promise this question has nothing to do with my ego, but...was that okay for you?”

It’s obvious that Zach doesn’t just mean physically. Chris digs through the hazy satisfaction clouding his mind to come up with the words Zach deserves to hear. 

“It was better than okay, Zach. I didn’t...I honestly didn’t think it was going to be that good.”

“Yeah?” Zach pushes himself up on one elbow so he can see Chris’s face, like he needs to check for himself that Chris is being sincere. 

“Mmm,” Chris confirms, nodding. “I didn’t really know how much I needed that. To be connected to you like that.”

Zach smiles and reaches out to cradle Chris’s face with one hand. “Really? No part of you is freaked out?”

Chris takes a deep breath and searches his mind for any trace of the anxiety that was there before, any hint of uncomfortableness that he might have missed while he was floating in post-orgasmic bliss. But there is not a single negative feeling to be found. All he feels is his immense love for Zach and gratefulness that Zach is the one he shared this with.

“No part of me is freaked out,” he says. He smiles, then smiles wider when Zach traces the crinkles at the corner of his eye with his thumb. “I guess I was worried before that it was going to be some kind of test for us. I’ve been sure of my feelings for you all along, but I wasn’t sure _this part_ would work. Because it’s new for me, and new is...scary.”

“But it did work,” Zach says, smiling right back at him. 

“Yeah. Because...because I love you.” Chris’s face heats up, and he has to resist the urge to look away. “I feel like I should have known that the way we feel about each other would make it good.”

Zach looks relieved, which is surprising since it should have been obvious how much Chris was enjoying himself. Chris runs his hands up and down his back a couple times, frowning. “Were you really that worried?”

“I just wanted it to be good for you,” Zach says quietly, averting his eyes for a second. “It felt like it was my responsibility.”

“Zach,” Chris breathes. He tugs him down for reassuring kiss, fingers tangling in the back of his hair. “You were amazing. Not because of your physical prowess—although sure, yeah, I’ll give you that too.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Zach grins, managing to look bashful and smug at once. He gives Chris a playful pinch in the side, and Chris chuckles and squirms under him, then tips his face up for another brief, heated kiss. When he pulls back again, Zach’s expression is soft and pleased. Chris’s heart swells.

”You made me feel...safe. Comfortable,” Chris says softly, brushing his thumb across Zach’s bottom lip. “I could feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you,” Zach says. “So much.”

Chris stares at him for a moment, drinking in the honesty and fondness in his expression. “I wish I had known.” 

“Known what?” Zach asks.

“That it could be this good.”

Zach chuckles at that. He leans in and nuzzles into Chris’s neck, then presses a kiss to the skin under his ear. “Baby,” he whispers, “it’s only going to get better from here.” 

———— 

Outside the window, Chris can see the pale yellow sun rising up over the skyscrapers, turning their windows into glittering mirrors. He squints and scrubs the back of his hand across his eyes, then tucks his chin down against Zach’s shoulder, brushing his lips across the soft skin he finds there. Zach’s arm tightens around his waist, and he shifts a little, lets out a half-alert little purr.

“Zach,” Chris whispers, tilting his chin up so he can speak right in Zach’s ear.

“Mmm,” Zach mumbles. 

“Zach, I want coffee.” Chris is fighting a smile, even though Zach can’t see it. 

“Mmm?”

“I think you should fuck me again, and then we should go get coffee. On the way to set.”

“I’m walking you to the set now?” Zach could be talking in his sleep for all Chris could tell. He hasn’t opened his eyes, and his expression is still slack with sleep. He even burrows his head deeper into the pillow for good measure. Chris leans in and mouths at his jaw, then nibbles on his earlobe. 

“Mmhmm. Yes, you are. And you’re going to hold my hand and make moony eyes at me.”

Zach’s eyes pop open at that. Then, slowly, he pushes himself up on his elbows so he can look at Chris’s face. “What?”

Chris just nods solemnly. “And tonight, after I get home, we’re going to buy plane tickets back to L.A. I have some stuff I need to pack up if I’m going to be staying here on a permanent basis.”

Maybe Chris is mean, springing all this on Zach when he’s barely awake. He looks dumbfounded, and that, coupled with the halo of light the morning sun has painted around his head, makes quite the endearing picture. 

“What did you say?” Zach asks.

Chris reaches up and pushes a strand of hair out of Zach’s face, then strokes his fingers down his cheek. “I said I think it’s time we really do this thing. No holds barred.”

“With coffee,” Zach says.

“With coffee,” Chris confirms. “Full circle, right?”

Zach stares and blinks, blinks and stares. Chris just watches him and waits. 

“You’re going to stay?” Zach says at last. He looks adorably, heartbreakingly hopeful. Chris can’t resist dragging him in for one sweet kiss. 

“Zach, I was _always_ going to stay.” 

Chris has wanted to be with him from the moment he met him, and now that he knows what that means, he isn’t going to squander it. He isn’t going to hide, he isn’t going to run, he isn’t going to worry. He’s going to grab on with both hands and forget all about what it means to be afraid. It’s a new morning, and the city-reflected sunlight spilling across the bed seems like permission to start a new life. 

New York will make a decent home, but Zach will make a better one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. You can find me on tumblr [here](http://semper-ama.tumblr.com/).


End file.
